Me and You Against the World
by badwoolfbay
Summary: Draco Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. He befriends Harry Potter and they see each other through school, the war, and beyond.
1. chapter 1

Draco Malfoy's anger rose up in him like a fire. How dare Harry Potter reject him like that, and so openly, too? It was positively embarrassing. Just because he was the famous Harry Potter didn't mean he could treat others like dirt. And all he'd done really was state the obvious. If he wanted to succeed in the wizarding world, he ought to align himself with powerful wizards. Like himself. Well, he wasn't powerful yet, but he would be. Ron Weasley looked like a classic Hufflepuff if Draco ever saw one.

But they were interrupted by McGonagall, and led into the Sorting. Draco felt a peculiar case of nerves wash over him, but beat them down. Every member of his family ever had been in Slytherin. There wasn't any suspense over where he'd be, but still the nerves persisted under the surface, as present as his own heartbeat. He just didn't like everyone in the whole school staring at him, he reasoned, but he was unable to calm himself down. His name was called and he made his way to the hat, trying not to look quite so timid as he felt, feeling his heartbeat in his throat.

He expected it to be only a second before declaring Slytherin, but sat still for a few moments while the hat thought. _Certainly would make a good Slytherin_ , the hat said, and Draco prepared to jump up and run to the table. He didn't like the hat peering into his mind, didn't appreciate the lack of control here. _But that would be too easy, and in Slytherin lies what has always been. You have bravery, and heart. You're loyal._ Draco felt panic rise in his throat, but before he could do anything to stop it the hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" He sat, stunned for a moment. He glanced at the crowd of Slytherins, where he had expected to go, and found that those who didn't know him didn't care. Those who did know who he was looked a little shocked. Almost no one in Gryffindor knew who he was yet, so they cheered him on as they would any new first year, but Draco remained frozen to the chair.

"Go on," McGonagall said, nudging him gently from the seat. She clearly understood who his family was, and was also surprised at his placement. But she had a job to do, and she ushered him off to his new house. He sat amongst the other Gryffindors stiffly, watched as others got called to go to Slytherin, watched as Potter and Weasley moved to join him at the Gryffindor table. He barely even cared now, though he did realize with some annoyance that this meant they would be dorm mates.

Caught myself on the wrong foot there, Draco thought bitterly. Now he was going into the lion's den, surrounded by people he would have never called friends ordinarily. House lines were rarely crossed, and he could already feel his friends a few tables away slipping away from him. Then he imagined what his father would say, and shuddered. He had essentially, unintentionally, gone against his whole family. He heartened a little, thinking that maybe his father could sort something out, but he still played with his food more than he ate it. He ignored everyone at the table, and they ignored him in return. He noticed that Potter snuck him a glance now and then, but he didn't even bother sneering. He just waited out the feast and went with the others to the common room, barely taking it in as he made his way up the stairs to the dorm and fell into bed. He pulled the curtains, and wished very much that he could talk to his mother. When he finally fell asleep his chest was still heavy with worry, and he dreamed in restless fits about lions and snakes.

As suspected, he received a letter from his father two days later. He had written first thing in the morning, urging him to do something. The reply was short and curt. In no uncertain terms he advised that the sorting hat's decision was final, and he was in Gryffindor until he graduated. Knowing his father, Draco inferred that he had fought Dumbledore on the matter and had lost, otherwise he'd be packing his trunk and moving to the Slytherin common room right that moment. So at breakfast, with new resolve, Draco sat next to Harry Potter. If you can't beat em, join em, he told himself. He piled bacon and eggs and toast onto his plate and tried to pretend he wasn't absolutely miserable. He turned to ask Harry to please pass the marmalade when Ron Weasley strolled up and gave him a nasty look.

"What are you looking at?" Ron had sneered, and Draco quickly looked away. He at his toast dry, and had never felt less confident in his life. He quickly forced down what he could, and left the rest on his plate, cheeks hot.

Everyone hated him. He knew he had started off with a deficit since Ron Weasley was Harry Potter's friend, and Harry Potter and in particular Ron Weasley didn't like him. His whole house was lauded as being this amazingly loyal place, but every time he seemed to open his mouth, or look the wrong way, he was in trouble again. He tried to keep his head up high, like his mother suggested when she wrote him, but he found it harder each day. His only refuge was learning his school work as best he could, throwing himself into his studies. And even there he was bested by Granger at every turn.

It was Halloween when things finally changed for Draco. Hermione had been in the bathroom crying, and hadn't heard about the troll. In the fray, Draco heard Harry try to convince Ron to go after her - but Ron refused. Harry squared his shoulders and went down the hall, away from the crowd. Draco followed him.

"Hey - wait up!"

Harry spared a glance behind him, but kept moving determinedly. "What?" he called behind him, not slowing.

Draco fell into step beside him, huffing a little from the hurry to catch up. "I saw - Ron wasn't coming - thought you might need backup in case -" Then he saw the troll. They chained the door quietly, starting to back away...

And a scream broke through the air, startling them both. Draco ignored the stitch in his side as adrenaline carried him on to find Hermione crouched under a sink. Potter was beside him, frozen with fear just like him. They moved at the same time, wrenching the door open then reaching for rubble and debris and bits of pipe and ceramic to throw at the troll, to hopefully distract it. When Harry physically jumped onto the troll, lodging his wand up its nose, Draco was agape before he heard Hermione yell at him to swish and flick.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried, guiding the trolls club to its own head, hoping it wouldn't crush Potter on the way down. That's all he needed, was to kill the boy who bloody lived. But he stood up, running to help Hermione, and the three turned to find themselves face to face with their professors.

It was only that night, alone in his bed with the curtains drawn, that Draco let himself replay the events of the evening. And he thought to himself that he'd wished he'd been brave enough to jump on the troll himself. Harry hadn't even questioned it, had just acted. A stupid thing to do, he decided. A stupid, noble, brave thing to do. He thought about it all night. Harry was willing to do that for someone he barely knew, hadn't even really liked as far as Draco could tell. It was so rash, so — _magnificent_. The word came to him suddenly, and he knew he couldn't find a truer word.

The next day, Ron wasn't mean to him at breakfast. He sat next to Hermione, across from Ron and Harry, interjecting occasionally as the three filled the redhead in on what he'd missed. It was clear to Draco that Ron was jealous he'd stayed behind and hadn't taken action like Harry had insisted. But it also looked rather clear that Hermione was attached to their friend group now, and was filled with nothing but glowing pride for Draco himself. A losing battle to fight for Ron, who had opted not to go find her and everyone knew it, so he shrugged his shoulders at it all and accepted it with relative ease. Then Harry started telling Ron about seeing Snape, which Draco didn't realize was a big deal at all, so then the three had to explain that from the beginning to him - starting with a duel Blaise had orchestrated to get the guys caught wandering out of bed. It was a long and confusing morning of explanations all around, and in the end Draco was glad to finally be able to talk Quidditch with the guys and moon over Harry's broomstick.

He knew he was supposed to be lamenting the fact that he was not in Slytherin house, but having real friends in Gryffindor was a giant weight off of Draco's chest. He found Hermione wasn't as bad as his father might have him believe, despite her blood status. They did their homework together, and it was easier to divide and conquer with Ron and Harry to get them to participate with the two of them. And he rather enjoyed playing chess with Ron, even though the redhead beat him most games. But it was to his great surprise Harry Potter who was becoming his closest friend, especially once it came time for Christmas break.

He had opted not to go home for break, because he wasn't sure he could face his parents still. Ron stayed as his parents were out of the country, and Harry did too because he simply had no place to go. And although they hung out with Ron most of the break, the two bonded over their loneliness in reserved ways.

Harry was a quiet person, and Draco found that he had that in common with him. They read books together in the common room until Ron complained loud enough and they played exploding snap instead. They explored the castle, which seemed too huge to cover in seven years, though they steadfastly avoided the three headed dogs area. They wondered about Nicholas Flamel, and made odd guesses at what could he kept underneath the trap door.

When Christmas came, Draco was greeted with a tense but polite happy Christmas note from his parents, and a few presents that were clearly expensive but had no meaning. Same as usual. Better than Harry's relatives, who had sent him 50p he supposed - Draco had been a bit impressed until Harry had explained how little that could buy. He tried to hide his jealousies at Harry's and Ron's sweaters and homemade candy from the Weasley's, but he thought Harry might have noticed because he shared his fudge with him. It was delicious, of course, better than he'd even thought it would be. He tossed Ron a present from his trunk, a pair of orange socks with his favourite Quidditch team on them, and handed Harry a gift too. It was small, and light, and Harry looked surprise to get it, as he had with all of his gifts. He opened it slowly and carefully, and found a ring on a chain.

"What's this?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, are you two getting married now?" Ron asked through a mouth full of fudge.

Draco threw a Chudley Cannons scarf that he'd also ordered for Ron at his head. "Look at it, you tosser," Draco instructed Harry, who peered at the ring more intently. It was gold and had an ornate crest on it, and though it was old the letters were still legible - the product of careful polishing once he'd had the ring in hand. Potter. "It's, um, your family crest," Draco explained, suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that he knew a lot more about Harry's family than Harry did, by virtue of being pure blood and being mired in the tradition and history in a way that Ron hadn't been. "I saw it in an antique shop over the summer in Diagon Alley, and I mail ordered it for you. I thought you'd like to have something from your family." He faltered and stopped talking, watching Harry slip the chain over his head. The chain was necessary since Harry was still quite a small eleven year old, but he would be able to wear it when he was older if he wished.

He was nervous about it now, feeling a bit foolish for giving such a serious and thoughtful gift, so he bustled around and made a show of not looking at Harry and finding his clothes for the day instead. He was rooting through his trunk for his socks when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, and into Harry's emerald eyes.

"Thank you," he said a little hoarsely, as though his throat was suddenly swollen. He hugged Draco then, and he could feel his own shoulders relax at the approval his gift had gotten.

"Oh, I get it, you are getting married. Can we finish opening our presents now?"

The invisibility cloak was the gift of the day, however, and the boys took delight in trying it out one by one before getting dressed and hanging out with the twins. They ate a Christmas meal for a king, and Draco noticed Harry occasionally touching a hand to his chest in a brief way to make contact with the ring under his jumper. He went to bed that night feeling accomplished, and glad the ding to his Gringotts account had been worth it.

He was woken in the middle of the night by Harry, who then moved on to get Ron. He forcibly dragged them under the cloak to the Mirror of Erised, and made them watch. He was sure they'd all see his parents, though Ron just saw an older, successful Ron.

"Go on, Draco, you try it," Harry said desperately. He stepped up in front of the mirror, and bit his lip.

"Ah -"

"Do you see them? My parents?"

"No," Draco said, though he wished he could have lied and said yes at Harry's dejected look.

"Well, what do you see then?"

"Um. I'd rather not..." His cheeks felt hot looking into the mirror.

"Go on," Ron said cheerfully, bolstered by being a fake Head Boy. "Tell us what it is?"

"Well, I'm Head Boy too," he lied apologetically to Ron, who had thought he might be glimpsing the future. "Sorry. Guess this mirror just shows us what we want."

The truth of that was real, and he carried the confusion of it with him back to bed. He returned a few nights later, though he kept half an ear out for Harry, whom he'd seen come back every night. He didn't have an invisibility cloak himself, but it was worth a detention risk to find the mirror again. He stared into it, both anxious and comforted by what he saw.

"I wonder what you're seeing," Dumbledore said from behind him, and Draco jumped. "Sorry," he chuckled. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Er - sir - sorry, sir, I'll go back to bed," he said, flushing, heading towards the door.

"Please stay," Dumbledore asked, and Draco found he couldn't ignore it. He was rooted to the spot near the door. "I only wished to tell you the mirror won't be here any longer. I'm moving it for everyone's betterment."

"Oh," Draco said disappointed. "I guess that's - it's just a stupid mirror anyway." But he found himself blinking back tears anyway. He willed himself to be silent and strong, and not to quiver. Because there in the mirror was an image of Draco himself, just as he was, except he was holding hands with someone. Not someone, he corrected himself, not just someone. Harry Potter was holding his hand, and looking at him in a way that made Draco feel a bit light headed.

"I think we both know it's a lot more than that, Draco."

"Do you think... the thing I see might happen?" Draco asked hopefully. "One day, I mean."

"Who can say?" Dumbledore answered. "It depends on what it is. But the mirror shows your hearts desire, not what is possible."

"Oh."

"Is there anything else you wish to talk about, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"No," he said automatically. "It's just - well. I guess I'm just awfully confused lately about... some things. And - you can't tell anyone if I tell you!" He felt so very stupid. The last person he wanted to speak with about his deepest secret was Albus Dumbledore, a man whom his father had spent considerable time railing against at home. But Dumbledore had a way of seeming like he knew more than he did, and he was halfway to telling a secret that felt urgent and impossible to swallow back now.

"I can't promise that," the old man said. "If it would hurt someone else I have to take action. But for the most part, yes."

"Well I just - it's - I feel not normal."

"Not normal how?"

"In a - in a way my father would disapprove of. I f-feel like I might l-l-like boys, instead of girls."

There was a long pause, followed by an "Ah," of understanding. "I would expect many would tell you that you're too young for such a revelation. But I think no one knows a man better than the man himself. So my advice to you would be to be as true to yourself as you can be, as things have a tendency to work themselves out that way. But be careful - there are still those in the world who would not find this acceptable, and your trust should not be blindly placed."

Draco nodded, brushing the tears he had fought so hard to keep from flowing away. He turned to the door, unable to speak.

"And Draco," he heard, and paused his hand on the knob. Dumbledore sounded sad now, pensive. "You can be confident that there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." Draco fled, back to his bed and back to his covers. Harry's bed was empty, and Draco was glad for it. He allowed himself a break for once from his composure, and cried into his pillow until he fell asleep.

It was only a few weeks later that Harry realized who Flamel was, and Hermione pulled his biography from Hogwarts: A History. Then going to Hagrid to confront him, and the dragon, and Blaise in the window - it was all a blur to the end of term. It seemed like no time at all that they were struggling through Devil's Snare and playing an insane chess game. Draco volunteered to stay with Ron when he was sacrificed, and Hermione saw Harry through to the end. When he visited him in the hospital wing when it was all over and got the full story, Draco realized he had been grossly underestimating Harry's bravery.

"Harry - you're so - I'm glad you're okay." Even in his pyjamas in the hospital wing Draco could see a glint of gold chain, showing he hadn't taken the ring off. It gave him courage. "I wanted to tell you..."

But then Dumbledore came in, and Draco looked away in embarrassment. He muttered to Harry that he'd see him later, and wandered off. He found Ron and Hermione in the common room and joined them. He borrowed Hogwarts: A History from Hermione for the summer, and promised to owl it back when he was done. She told him to keep it til next term, since she'd be travelling over the summer. Ron invited Draco to visit for a bit in the summer, although they both knew that due to his father it would be highly unlikely that he could. The invitation itself was a lift to Draco's spirits though. He would have never made such a suggestion before Christmas. They all promised to write, and traded addresses before the leaving feast.

When his house was awarded the house cup Draco felt pride. When he and his friends were awarded the points that tipped them over the edge, he felt his chest swell. And when his whole table leapt to their feet and cheered and celebrated, Harry hugged him and he felt his heart was fit to burst. And he was never more proud to be in Gryffindor.

That feeling carried him all the way to the train the next day, and on the ride home too. He shared a compartment with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and they talked about their incredible year. It was when they reached the train station that Harry and Draco became notably less animated and a little surly.

"What's gotten into you two?" Ron asked, kicking Harry playfully.

"I'm going home," the two said in unison, then laughed ironically.

"It won't be as bad as all that, will it?" Hermione asked lightly, but neither was ready to offer up much in the way of details.

Draco started to say goodbye quickly and leave, as his father wouldn't take too kindly to him hanging out with his chosen friend group. Although he noticed, surely, when the train stopped with their compartment in front of Lucius Malfoy himself.

He didn't say anything about it until they got home, and for a mad moment he thought his father wouldn't mention it at all.

"So you are consorting with Harry Potter now?" Lucius asked in a sneer after dinner when he called his son to his study, and Draco ducked his head, blushing.

"I suppose so," Draco said cautiously, hoping to minimize the damage. "I tried to get in good with everyone in my house. No one really talked to me for the first few months."

"And you thought being around mudbloods and blood traitors and _Harry Potter_ was preferable?"

"To being ignored and ostracized by everyone? Yeah, I did," Draco challenged, and immediately regretted it when his fathers walking stick came down on him, striking his face. Before he knew it he was pushed against a wall and Lucius held his face in one hand.

"You are a Malfoy," Lucius spat. "You are better than the likes of them, and I will not see our good name spoiled because of you."

"Yes sir," Draco said through gritted teeth, knowing that was what was expected of him. He escaped to his room at the earliest possible convenience, and decided he'd be spending most of his time there that summer. He did something then that would have been unthinkable the previous September — he yearned for the safety of Gryffindor tower.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco spent the summer between first and second year reading, mostly. His school books from year one, his parents old school books from their years. He wrote to Harry twice a week, though he was starting to feel foolish about it since he never wrote back. He wrote to Ron too, and Hermione, but neither of them had heard from him either. He mentioned to Ron that maybe his father could arrange someone to check up on him.

His father spent a lot of time in his study that summer, and at first Draco paid it no mind. When he overheard something about the chamber of secrets, however, he started trying to eavesdrop. That ended the first time his father had caught him and beat the stuffing out of him.

His mother was casting glamour charms on the bruises for him to attend insufferable social events during the days, socializing with strictly Slytherins. He knew she was trying to make sure that he stayed in with this people despite his disgraceful sorting, but it only pushed him further inside himself. He wrote a desperate letter to Harry on his birthday.

 _Harry,_

 _Are you angry with me? Have I done something I shouldn't have? Did Dumbledore tell you something about me he shouldn't have? I've been writing you thinking that I'd found a kindred spirit this year at school, and now I'm afraid I just look a bit silly._

 _Unless you aren't getting my letters, and you're suffering at the Dursley's worse than I thought, in which case I'm even more worried. But without hearing from you I have no way to know._

 _The silence is frustrating. I wish you'd say something, anything, so I know you're alright._

 _My summer has been rotten, which you'd know if you read any of my other letters and aren't just lining Hedwig's cage with them. Lucius is nasty as ever, and it's hard being a lion in the serpents den, if you know what I mean._

 _I miss school. I miss you. Please write._

 _Draco._

 _P.S. Happy Birthday (no I haven't forgotten, despite being rudely ignored). Hope this present finds you well._

He affixed the letter and a small parcel to the family owl and let it go.

Four days later he received an owl from Harry advising he had got none of his mail, so sorry if he'd missed any letters. He briefly described Ron and the twins rescuing him, and promised he'd catch up on his letters after a few days. Ron said hi, Hermione sent her love.

Wasn't that just great, Draco thought bitterly. At first he felt like a fool for being so worked up over no reply, and then he felt a horrid green wave of jealousy come over him. They were all hanging out together, having a good time. Meanwhile he was busy trying to pretend everything was alright while trying to walk properly. Lucius hadn't liked his attitude yesterday, and had made his displeasure known with his walking stick again, which was becoming an almost daily habit of his fathers.

At least Harry was safe, he told himself, flipping aimlessly through Hogwarts: A History and thinking about his friends. He pushed the book aside and flopped onto his bed. Only a month to go until he saw Ron and Hermione. And Harry. He gave into daydreaming about him now, in the privacy of his own room, knowing he was safe. He allowed himself to think about him the way he had denied himself so far all summer, though he did get a bit embarrassed at the flutter of his own heart. Even alone, he wasn't entirely comfortable with his own thoughts yet.

When summer finally ended, Draco was thrilled to leave home and go to the train station again. He'd had a rather awkward run in with his friends, seeing as his father and Mr. Weasley had gotten into a fistfight while buying books, but he'd been assured by Hermione via owl after the incident that no one blamed him. He was just chatting with his friends when his father had provoked Mr. Weasley - although it was mortifying to him that his father had spouted off his bigoted views in front of his friends and their parents. However, it was nice to see everyone again before the train. It was funny how a summer could change you. Ron got way taller, Hermione cut her hair. Harry looked like he'd aged three years in the face. It was all very strange, but fun. He wondered what his friends saw when they looked at him. Secretly he wondered what Harry saw when he looked his way.

When he boarded the train soon after Diagon Alley, Draco was excited to finally be rid of his parents and go where he belonged. He could shake his Slytherin parents and acquaintances and life and just be who he was.

He found Hermione easily, and helped her stow her luggage once he was sure his parents had gone. She introduced him to her parents before they'd boarded the train, and had been delighted to meet one of Hermione's friends. They seemed so enthusiastic about it that Draco asked her what their deal was - no one was ever that excited to meet him. She explained with a bright red glow in her face that before Hogwarts she had not really had any friends, had in fact avoided even trying.

"Why didn't you want any friends?" Draco asked, confused. "I grew up without anyone around, really, and I was bored all the time."

"Yes, well," Hermione said, looking out the window as the train started to depart, "I wanted them. But every time I thought I'd made a friend it turned out to be a joke, or a trick. Or they wanted me to do their homework for them."

Draco suddenly saw Ron begging her to 'look over' his essays and write his introductions. He was suddenly quite annoyed with their redhead friend. "So your mum and dad are just pleased that you're finally happy," Draco offered cheerfully, trying to bring her mood up. She'd turned somber with remembrance.

"I suppose so," she said, looking at the platform grow smaller in the distance. "Where d'you reckon Ron and Harry are?"

"Who knows?" Draco said with a shrug, though he'd been wondering the same thing. "I'm sure they'll turn up sooner or later. Probably got stopped by Dean and Seamus." He stood and rooted around in his trunk, pulling a heavy tome out and handing it to her. It was Hogwarts: A History. "Hey, thanks for loaning me this, by the way. It made for interesting reading between all the studying."

Hermione took the book with a clear fondness in her eyes for the well read tome. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Honestly, I didn't think any of you boys would actually read this."

"It has some pretty fascinating history in it," he admitted. It had really been an unspoken agreement that no one would ever read the book that Hermione could not stop referencing, but in the end Draco simply hated feeling like Hermione knew more than him. If she was going to best him in every subject it wouldn't be due to laziness on his part, and the fact that she always seemed to have an answer from that book had irked him. But once he'd started reading it, then he saw why she really loved it. The facts about the school ranged from mundane to fascinating, but the illustrations that accompanied them were marvellous. It was just like being there when he looked at them, and he already planned to find the spot where a few of the photographs might have been taken, just to see how his shots matched up.

He'd gotten a camera for his birthday in June, a present from parents who didn't know him at all. They were never quite sure what to get him. But the camera had been expensive, so they'd considered the job done. He was still feeling lost in his own family, but wanted to at least try to be close to his mother, so he'd brought the camera to school to try to figure out how to use it properly. The shots he'd taken at the manor had come out smudged or blurry or... off. He was hoping that he might practice and get better, and be able to show his parents that he was able to use something they'd given him. So he planned to find some of these places that were so beautiful he couldn't possibly take a picture wrong.

When he told Hermione about his plan she begged him to show her how the camera worked, and chatted about the potion solutions that made the pictures move. Every now and then he caught her glancing at the door to look for Ron and Harry, and Draco found himself recognizing the action since he was doing the exact same thing. But they passed a pleasant train ride alone, getting to know each other without interruption. They swapped stories about places they'd visited in the world, chatted about the books they'd read that summer, speculated on what Lockhart would be like. They traded book recommendations, and Hermione even suggested a few Muggle books that Draco might like. He couldn't read them at home, of course, but she said she'd get her parents to send a few of her favourites for him to have at school. They quizzed each other on spells and trivia from their second year books, paying particular attention to Potions so that they could make Snape at least not take so many points from them this year, with any luck.

Draco's sinking feeling persisted when the train rolled into Hogsmeade station, and still he couldn't see Harry or Ron. Usually Ron was easy to spot with his bright red hair, but Hermione couldn't find them either. Once they were seated in the Great Hall he was outright panicking.

"There's nothing we can do about it right now," Hermione murmured to him when he fidgeted through the Sorting. "We'll just have to ask one of the professors after the feast to check up on them."

When they ended up finding Harry and Ron in the common room bursting to tell their story of the Ford Anglia and the Whomping Willow, Draco could finally relax. Ron, who had apparently had almost a whole platter full of sandwiches that night, grew tired after the food and excitement and headed to bed. Draco couldn't sleep now that he could finally talk to Harry though, and though the two went to the boys dorm they stayed up late into the night talking. First they rehashed the great flying car incident, from his escape from the Dursley's prison and then from Kings Cross to Hogwarts. Then they talked about Draco's train ride in, and how it was nice to feel a bit closer to Hermione since they had so much in common. Harry felt as though he had a lot in common with her too, when she wasn't bossing them around.

Then Harry seemed to remember Draco's letters, and to his great embarrassment pulled them out and read them in front of him. He laughed at a few points, stopped to discuss a few others, and finally got to his last letter and parcel. He was quiet for a second, then looked up.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately. "I didn't realize - I thought you'd all forgotten about me and - Hedwig was locked up, and that house elf - "

"It's not your fault," Draco said quickly, turning pink.

"What were you afraid Dumbledore told me?"

"What?"

"The letter... you asked if Dumbledore told me something he shouldn't have."

Draco felt his face grow unbearably hot. "Er... I told him something rather personal about me that I thought if anyone knew, they might not want to be around me anymore."

"Oh," said Harry, who had clearly been hoping to learn more details about what exactly that was. He gave it up though, as he himself did not like to have personal information wheedled out of him. "Well, for the record then. I don't think there's anything you could tell me that would make me stop being friends with you. You're the best friend I ever had, truly."

Draco, who was finding it rather difficult to speak at the moment, pushed his present towards Harry. "Open your late birthday gift," he said, afraid to return the sentiment with words because he didn't want to be too open. It made him uncomfortable.

"Alright," said Harry, carefully unwrapping the parcel.

"Why do you do that?" Draco questioned.

"What?" Harry asked, not really paying attention as he fully undressed the package.

"Open your gifts so slowly. Most people tear into them."

"Oh." Harry set the outer wrappings aside neatly. "I guess it's because I've never gotten presents before Hogwarts. I'm savouring it I suppose." Before Draco could answer, Harry had the gift open and in his hands. "Wicked! Thank you!" He held a brand new wizarding chess set.

"It's so you can practice," Draco teased, "Because you're awful. Look, this is a really good set too, because if you don't have an opponent the other board pieces will play you instead."

"Kind of like computer chess, only better!"

"Er, if you say so."

"Sorry, Muggle thing."

Draco shrugged. He had been raised to treat everything Muggle with disdain, but he struggled sometimes when he didn't know what Harry or Hermione were talking about. He was happy that Harry had at least said his gift was better than the Muggle thing. He lay on Harry's bed, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"Do you miss the Muggle world at all?" Draco asked curiously. "I mean, what's so great about it?"

"Nothing really. I guess it's nice that no one stares at me there, because I'm no one. But there isn't very much out there that I'm pining for or anything."

"Were you awfully lonely this summer?"

"Terribly," Harry admitted, since it was just the two of them. The dorm was full of Ron's snoring along with the sounds of the other boys sleeping. "I thought about you guys every day. The worst was thinking you'd forgotten about me, or Hogwarts was all a dream and I'd wake up in the cupboard under the stairs."

"What cupboard?"

"Oh, um. It was my bedroom, if you could call it that, before the letters from Hogwarts started coming. It was supposed to be a storage space, but the Dursley's put some blankets in there and that's where I slept."

"That's awful."

"Yeah."

"My father beat me senseless this summer for having an attitude."

"The Dursley's don't even find reasons anymore."

"Our family's suck."

"Maybe one day, when we're old enough, we can get a place together," Harry suggested. "A flat in Diagon Alley."

"Or Muggle London, so people don't bug you. We can go back and forth all the time."

"Yeah," Harry said, sounding excited even through a yawn. "I could live a semi normal life. And your parents won't come to Muggle London."

"We'll do it," Draco said, sleeping pulling at him. "Whatever it takes. You and me against the world."

"You and me against the world," Harry agreed.

When Draco woke up he found himself fully clothed in his pyjamas, which was normal. He also found himself in Harry's bed, which was not normal. He had fallen asleep there, talking, and his throat felt a little raw but his spirit felt refreshed. Me and you against the world, he repeated to himself silently as he crept into the shower, trying not to wake Harry up. They'd moved together in the night, and Draco had ended up gripping one of Harry's legs. For Harry's part, he'd had his hand on Draco's head. It felt extremely uncomfortable to wake up after having been in an odd position the night before, but he couldn't be too mad at the renewed closeness with Harry. It was like it made up for a summer of silence apart. That was the power of a crush - the lows were low, but Merlin were the highs high. Draco felt fantastic at the moment, even with a crick in his neck.

He showered, dressed, and woke Ron and Harry up for breakfast, excited for the day to start. Ron did not remain in good spirits after his mother's Howler, although he couldn't really blame Mrs. Weasley for that one. Ron was lucky to be alive. If he'd pulled a stunt like that Lucius would have — well, he shuddered to think.

Draco, Ron, and Hermione all made it down to the Quidditch pitch for Harry's first practice back, which was waylaid by the Slytherin thugs when Blaise got to be the new Seeker thanks to his fathers donation. Not Blaise's father. That would be favouritism. His old pal Lucius Malfoy had donated the brooms to the Slytherin team as a gift to his former house, a slight that Draco keenly felt. So his ego was bruised already when Blaise called Hermione a mudblood, and Ron ended up coughing slugs. It could hardly be his fault, then, he reasoned, that he'd socked Blaise one in the nose. But the entire team had called sabotage on their player then, and had jumped on him.

After the raucous skirmish had died down, Hermione was in tears, Ron looked either grey or green depending on the light, and Draco sported a black eye, a split lip, and a few solid goose eggs on his head. They made their way to Hagrid's hut in defeat. Draco wasn't thrilled about going there to lick his wounds since he had a sneaking suspicion that Hagrid didn't really like him very much, but he had a sort of comforting competence in his handing Ron a bucket and telling him to wait it out. He took a look at Draco next, giving him ice for his head and declaring him fit for the hospital wing.

"There's nothin' wrong with yeh," Hagrid said, eyes already on Hermione. She was untouched but easily the most upset, in tears. "You go to Madame Pomfrey and yeh'll be fixed up in no time at all. Hermione, what's the matter?"

So they got the story out, between sniffles and slugs and bloody scowls, with Harry piping in, confused. While they all explained what the term mudblood meant and why exactly it was so offensive, Draco could actually see anger rolling over Harry in waves.

Draco went to the hospital wing then, complaining of a headache. He allowed Madame Pomfrey to fuss over him like a mother hen, just to drag the process out. Then he skipped the evening feast, and he took his time going to the dorms. He was already in bed when the others came in after their detention and, assuming he was in bed with a headache, they tried to keep quiet and not wake him.

"Are you up, Draco?" Harry asked in the middle of the night. Draco froze, his heart beating a little harder. "You are. I can tell."

"Yeah," Draco said, trying to sound sleepy.

"Are you alright?"

"Er, yeah. Why?"

"The others haven't been to the hospital wing for injuries like that. I have. Madame Pomfrey probably had you healed in a minute."

Draco felt his cheeks grow warm, glad that it was dark in the room, only clouded moonlight trickling in through the window. "So?"

"So... I'm not stupid, Draco. What's wrong?"

He was silent for a long time, not moving, hardly breathing, allowing his own feelings to well up around him. They felt like a riptide, pulling him under. He was drowning in them. He could feel Harry flop down on his bed impatiently, giving up, before he said, "I'm not a... nice guy. My family isn't nice. We don't make sweaters and candy for Christmas. My parents don't get excited about good grades and want to hear about all of my excellent school adventures." He knew he was describing Ron and Hermione's parents, and thought that might be unfair to them. They couldn't help having wonderful parents, just as he couldn't help but feel jealous of that.

"Your parents don't make you who you are," Harry countered quietly. "I ought to know that."

"I know. But you don't understand. Hermione was so upset today at being called mu - that word. But my father said it about her straight off of the train after our first year. That's common language for him, and my mum. I was raised in it, they told me it was normal. My father -" Draco hesitated here, but decided that he wouldn't open up just to tell half the problem. This was Harry after all. "Um, my father has the Dark Mark."

Harry was clearly confused. "The dark - ?"

"His sign. You-Know-Who's sign. Merlin, Harry! He was a Death Eater. A supporter of You-Know-Who, he was in his circle. He helped him."

There was a roar of silence from Harry's bed. His reality was being torn apart. His best friend Draco came from Death Eaters, his blood was the one who was tainted. He was a dirty Death Eater's son. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the accusations and disgust.

But they never came.

Instead, Draco felt a hand ghost over his. He looked up and saw Harry standing over him, a very serious expression on his face.

"Your parents are not Draco Malfoy," Harry said firmly. "You are not your parents. We all come from somewhere, and we can't help our upbringing. Can you imagine if I was like the Dursley's?" He gave a physical shudder at the thought.

"But - your parents - and Death Eater -" Draco hiccoughed and realized he was crying, and his cheeks flamed once more.

"You can hardly be held accountable for anything your father did. Draco."

He sniffled in response.

"Do you believe that purebloods are superior to half bloods like me, or Muggle-borns like Hermione?"

Draco sniffed again, wiping at his cheeks. He shook his head no, a bold admission considering what his father would do if he found out.

"Then that's all you need, isn't it? You're not like them at all." Draco felt the bed sink down. Harry had sat on it, placed a comforting hand on his leg.

"I was worried you wouldn't want to be friends any more."

"Not be friends?" Harry said, "Well then who will I share a flat with when I graduate?" He traded a smile with Draco in the darkness, then went back to his own bed to sleep.

"Harry?" He hated how small his voice sounded in the dark.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Was that the thing? The thing you didn't want Dumbledore to tell anyone?"

It would have been so easy to say yes, and have the subject dropped indefinitely. But he found that even as he opened his mouth to say yes, he couldn't lie to him. "No," Draco said instead. They didn't speak any more, and Draco dreamed fitfully that night about Dark Marks and lightening bolts.

Life passed normally for a few weeks. The four friends worked hard at their schoolwork - well, tried to get Ron to work at all - and went to class. Hermione had her thirteenth birthday, and the dorm held a small party. Draco gave her a neatly wrapped package from a Muggle book store. He'd had to get Dean to owl his mum with Galleons, who ran out and bought it and owled back. Draco was shocked when he received change back in Muggle money, and put it in his trunk to examine later.

He was pleased and embarrassed when Hermione opened the book of Ernest Hemingway short stories and hugged him. People always got her books, she explained later, but people rarely asked what she liked reading. She'd mentioned her interest in Hemingway on the train into Hogwarts, and he'd remembered and sought it out for her. That meant more than any random book - that her friend Draco had taken the time to find something he knew she'd like. She blushed when she told him this, and Draco felt suddenly uncomfortable.

It was two weeks later when Draco was sick. Harry forced him to go to the hospital wing, even though he insisted he was fine, but Harry brought him anyway. He insisted that he never got sick, and Harry took him to Madame Pomfrey against his will. Draco was too sick to protest really, which was what bothered him the most.

"He's got the flu, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said cheerfully. Draco could have hit him for how happy he sounded. "And he's being stubborn about it."

"I am dot," Draco insisted through his stuffed nose.

"Well, we'll just see then," Madame Pomfrey said placatingly, waving her wand and performing a few diagnostics. Draco remembered his mum doing the same when he had the flu as a child. But Pomfrey frowned, and uttered a few more spells. Finally, her jaw set, and she tried a few different ones. With one spell, Draco saw a purply black light surround him and settle into his skin.

"What does that mean?" Draco asked, panicked. He knew a common cold was blue.

"Black Cat Flu, I'm afraid," Pomfrey said with a tsk. "Change into some pyjamas and climb into bed Mr. Malfoy. We can't fix this with Pepper Up Potions."

"He's going to be okay, isn't he?" Harry said, worry crossing his features. He'd never heard of Black Cat Flu before.

"Oh, sure," Madame Pomfrey said, waving her wand at Harry. Nothing happened. "You don't have it, possibly because of your Muggle blood. Some half and Muggle borns can't catch certain wizarding diseases. But it's quite contagious, and needs some work to fix."

"How long do I hab do be here?" Draco asked miserably.

"A few days, Mr. Malfoy, no more. Mr. Potter can visit as we know he's immune now, but no one else just in case."

"Are you sure I'm immune?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"If you don't have it just walking down here with him, you're not getting it," the nurse said pragmatically. So Harry shrugged, and sat down next to Draco's soon to be bed and waited for him to change and come back.

"You don'd hab do stay here," Draco said when Pomfrey left. "I can hardly talk. I'm nod good combany."

"You're good company. You're you," Harry said. He paused, thought about it. "Whenever I was sick, the Dursley's locked me in the cupboard until they were sure I wouldn't infect them," he admitted, keeping his voice low so the nurse wouldn't overhear. "They let me out once a day to use the bathroom, and sent me back in with a thermos of cold soup and a jug of water."

Draco sighed, looking at Harry with large grey eyes. He hated everything that his aunt, uncle, and cousin had put him through. But his throat hurt and he couldn't speak very well, and he didn't know what to say anyway.

"Well. I guess I just don't want to leave you when you're sick, is all. I could read something?"

Draco nodded, and Harry rooted through his own bag. Draco shook his head at all of the options as Harry presented them, pointing to his own bag. There Harry found a borrowed copy of muggle mythical tales. Hermione had obviously loaned it to him, her name written neatly in the book plate on the inside cover. He flipped to the bookmarked page and started reading.

"The Myth of Sisyphus..." he started, and settled into the chair for what would be a nightly routine.

After class, Harry would bring Draco his homework. Then he would tell him everything he missed in class that day, they would do some homework if there was any, and Harry would take the book off of Draco's bedside table and start reading. He came every day, without fail. On the fifth day Madame Pomfrey advised Harry that Draco really wasn't feeling well, and he might want to come back tomorrow.

"He doesn't want me to visit?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"It's not that Mr. Potter. It's just that Black Cat Flu always gets worse before it gets better. He should be fine in a day or two, but he's sleeping just now and he's likely to stay that way til morning."

"Er... could I come anyway?" Harry asked. "Just to sit. I promise I won't be a bother. It's just that I said I'd come."

Madame Pomfrey was tempted to say no, but really couldn't find a reason to, so she allowed him in. Harry sat at Draco's bedside and realized that asleep wasn't really an appropriate term for what he was doing. It was like he was physically fighting the flu, sweating and twitching and sighing. Harry watching him for a moment, and placed a hand on his arm for just a second. Just to say I'm here.

He didn't bother with the homework - it was all practical, and it was Friday after all, but picked up the book and started to read anyway.

Madame Pomfrey happened to be walking by when Harry started speaking, so she witnessed first hand what Draco did. It was, simply put, nothing. He stopped moving and twitching. He stopped sighing and moaning. His breathing went from erratic to slow and steady. Harry noticed it too and glanced up, concerned.

"Go on then," she said primly, "Keep reading. He seems to like it."

So he did.

When he came back the next morning the fever had broken. Draco's eyes were alert, and his nose was no longer affected. He looked normal, except for a purplish tinge to his skin, and tired eyes.

"I'll be out tomorrow. I won't be purple anymore either," Draco said cheerfully.

"I dunno," Harry said with a grin, "I sort of like the look on you."

"Well, you would. Hey, what happened yesterday?"

"You were so zonked out, you were having fits or something," Harry explained. "Then I started reading to you and you settled down."

"What? Really? That's odd. That's not what I meant though - what happened in classes? I missed your daily report."

"Oh!" Harry filled him in on the smartass comment that got Ron a detention with McGonagall, Snape's awful lesson, and all the names Slytherins had called them that day. Then he explained the homework, Charms theory, and they went back to gossiping about their schoolmates and what had been happening around the castle.

Madame Pomfrey interrupted to discharge Draco, and they walked back to the Gryffindor tower together. Harry carried his own bag and Draco's, insisting that he still looked a little worn from the flu. In a way he was sorry he was better. It was nice, having uninterrupted time with Harry. The reading was something that Draco would miss - his quiet, measured tone telling him fantastic tales. The way he had taken care of him, Draco could almost pretend like they were dating, and the dream was ending with every step they took towards the common room.

A few people greeted Draco enthusiastically, notably Hermione. She had even stopped studying, something she was not known to do until she was thoroughly done, to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek. He returned her book, and she flushed pink with pleasure when he told her he'd loved it. She immediately ran to the girls dorm to find one to swap it with for him.

"Draco and Hermione, sitting in a tree," Ron said under his breath, and Draco shot him a glare. And he wished again that he was back in the hospital wing with Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

"I hate you," Draco told Harry under his breath. "You're the worst. You and your bleeding heart. We could be at the Halloween feast, but noooo..."

"What was I supposed to say?" Harry hissed, elbowing Draco in the ribs. "He put me on the spot, and he was so depressed. And he was so thrilled when I said we'd go!"

They muddled their way through Nick's death day party, avoiding the tables of rotting food at all cost. When they walked back to the dorm, Draco paused, staring at Harry.

"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously. Harry had stopped in his tracks.

"Can't you hear it?" Harry murmured, and took off running. "He's going to kill!"

Draco didn't even have time to curse before taking off after him, stopping in the puddle of water next to Harry and staring at Mrs. Norris, frozen. He read the message on the wall and his own blood ran cold. They didn't have time to escape when they heard the thundering footsteps of hundreds of students, and were caught seemingly red handed.

It was only later, as Harry filled the others in, that Draco found out he'd heard the voice before.

"We have to get into the Slytherin common room and find out who did this," Draco said, a pinched look on his face. Merlin, hadn't Harry been through enough?

"We can use Polyjuice Potion," Hermione suggested. "Transform into Slytherin students and break into the common room. I just bet Blaise is behind this somehow."

Draco frowned. "Maybe." He found it hard to blame any one student without evidence, but then, he was a pure blood, and Hermione was the one more likely to be targeted.

"You heard him," Ron argued. "'You'll be next Mudbloods' and all that. I'd put money on it."

They went with it. What other plan did they have for getting information after all? Hermione got Lockhart's signature for the restricted section, and they planned to set up shop in Myrtle's bathroom. They were almost ready to go when that idiot Lockhart removed Harry's bones in his arm.

"Madame Pomfrey, please let me in," Draco said in his sweetest tone. "I just want to visit my friend."

"He needs rest," she said firmly.

"He read to me all that time I was sick," Draco said with a pout, and could see Pomfrey softening. "I just want to return the favour."

"Mr. Potter really ought to be left alone."

Time to bring out the big guns, he decided. "Madame Pomfrey, please. You know those muggles are awful to him - I won't betray confidence, but let's just say I know it would make him feel better if I was in there with him."

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "No visitors," she said wearily, and he turned to leave dejectedly. "But... if you don't mind my saying so, Mr. Malfoy, you look awfully pale. Might be coming down with exhaustion, or nerves. Better come inside and get looked after." She winked at him and he grinned, practically bouncing inside the doors. He swiftly changed into the mandatory pyjamas for a night stay, and took out his borrowed copy of The Alchemist.

"The boys name was Santiago."

And he read into the night, through Harry's pain. He suffered, but tried not to show it. It was difficult to pretend that growing your bones overnight wasn't causing immense pain though, and Draco carried on reading. He hoped to provide some of the same comfort that Harry had given him while he was ill.

Through gritted teeth and a few gasps of pain, Draco read.

Through eyes screwed tight against the pain, Draco read.

Through gripping bedsheets with his good hand, Draco read.

He would have done so all night, had Madame Pomfrey not rushed over to tell them someone was coming in and to put out that light. He did, quickly, putting the book down and flopping into his bed just in time for them to bring Colin Creevey in. He didn't dare open his eyes, but he could tell by the way Harry was breathing that he knew who it was.

It was over a month later that the duelling club incident happened. Draco, who had grown up mired in revered talk of the Dark Lord, was the first to point out that You-Know-Who was the last known Parstletongue. He imagined other people might know this too, and was quickly found to be right when people started avoiding Harry.

Then Justin Finch-Fletchley was attacked, and everything got worse for Harry.

Draco stood by him though, doubling down where some had fled. He would not let Harry for a second believe there was anything wrong with him while Draco was around. Then Christmas happened, they learned nothing through the Polyjuice, and Hermione was hospitalized for the cat thing, which Draco had to remind himself every so often wasn't funny. But it was a string of losses amongst a terrible year.

"Let's do something fun," Draco said exasperatedly. It was near the end of Christmas holidays.

"Like what?" Harry asked. He seemed glum. Although Draco couldn't blame him, why wouldn't he be?

"We might as well do something before the castle gets crowded again." He paced the common room, feeling like a caged animal. They had barely left since their botched Polyjuice attempt.

"We could go visit Hermione," Harry suggested.

Draco snorted. "She made it very clear when I tried that no one was to visit her. She's properly embarrassed. Look, she scratched me!" He brandished his arm, which indeed had four cat scratches. "C'mon, let's go find something to do."

Harry laughed, and followed Draco to their dorm.

"D'you reckon everyone will stop hating me eventually?" Harry asked sombrely, glad the dorm was empty.

"I don't know how they could think a twelve year old could open the chamber anyway," Draco said, trying to make him feel better. "I mean, we only know basic magic at this point anyway."

"What's that?" Harry asked when Draco dragged a case out from under his bed.

"My camera," he said. "We've been so busy with everything that I haven't had time to properly use it. Come on, you're going to help me."

They got the camera ready for transport on a handsome leather strap around Draco's neck and looked all over the castle for interesting photos to take. He caught a quick one of Mrs. Norris running by, and they went all over the Great Hall to snap photos before the Christmas decorations were taken down. They took some shots from the top of some of the tallest towers, capturing some of the magnificent landscapes, and walked all around the castle to find interesting angles and parts of the school they loved that they wanted to capture.

"Wait here," Draco said, setting his camera on a log outside near the Great Lake. He brushed the snow off the log, set the camera down, and fiddled with the dials. He ran back quickly and stood behind Harry. "One of us," he explained quickly. "It's on the timer."

They stood together, and Harry threw his arm around Draco for the photo. Draco leaned into him, and Harry whispered a nonsense sentence in his ear for the express purpose of making Draco laugh so that he'd smile for real in the photo. It was Draco's favourite, once he'd developed the film. He made two copies, giving one to Harry for his photo album and keeping one secreted away for himself. He could never display it in his room of course, not while living at home. But he could take it out and look at it when he was alone, and remember his great afternoon with Harry taking pictures.

He kept the feeling of Harry's arm around him close in his memory each night. Merlin, you're obsessed, he told himself. He'd had to outright admit the crush on his dark haired friend to himself when he spent each night thinking about the close moments and the warmth of his body, and smiling into his pillow at the remembrance of Harry's smile.

The rest of winter was rather uneventful. Hermione recovered and rejoined them. If they mentioned The Incident she gave what Draco thought to be a rather feral growl, and they all hastily agreed never to speak of it again. The other students all seemed leery of Harry still, but his friends rallied behind him.

Valentine's Day was a particular disaster, as Harry had been thoroughly embarrassed by Ginny's valentine. Draco was glad he'd resisted the urge to send Harry one in secret, anonymously. It had been a fleeting thought, dismissed as quickly as it had appeared. His main concern had been someone finding out he'd sent it, though now he figured it probably should have been how much Harry hated public attention. Unless it was for a great Quidditch game, Harry didn't like being in the spotlight at all.

A week later Harry was telling him, Ron, and Hermione about Tom Riddle's diary and what he'd seen there. Hagrid, and the monster. They speculated on what it could mean, but turned up empty. Draco knew the information kept Harry up at night, and he wished he could do something to help.

Then Hermione was petrified. Draco felt awful - he had just told her the day before that she needn't worry, that she'd be fine. And here she was, laying in the hospital wing. She'd been so worried, and was of course right as usual. He visited her in the hospital, feeling quite guilty. He didn't read to her, because that was something he did with Harry, but he did sit with her and do his homework and talk to her occasionally. Harry came more often than not, and Ron made a solid effort to visit as well. Madame Pomfrey might have kicked them out had they not mostly done schoolwork and talked quietly. She thought it was dear that they visited her, and allowed it.

With Dumbledore and Hagrid gone, the remaining three friends felt rather hopeless. It felt good to finally do something actively against the real attacker as they got the story out of Aragog a few weeks later, even as the three boys narrowly escaped with their lives. They were almost spider food - he'd never make fun of Ron's spider terror again, as he was sure he was as equally afraid of them now.

The resolving of the chamber of secrets mystery came at a great relief to Draco. Harry had of course been stuck doing the dangerous work while Draco and Ron shifted rocks and babysat Lockhart and worried. But when Harry and Ginny were safe, and they were freed from the chamber by Fawkes, everything sorted itself out. His father was sacked as school board governor, which pleased Draco, although he knew and angry Lucius was not good news for himself. Harry was able to help the house elf, who turned out to be in his fathers employ. He hadn't even known, had barely any contact with the elf - but had Harry but mentioned Dobby's name to him, Draco could have told him where he came from. And finally, Dumbledore and Hagrid were returned to Hogwarts.

They all had to give their statements of what had happened, of course, and Harry endured another few days in the hospital for the basilisk's damage, but they eventually had almost two full weeks of classes with no pressure of exams looming. They had been cancelled amidst everything going on, which suited Draco fine.

He made Harry go with him after classes since the weather was nice again to find more photo opportunities. It was a perfect excuse for Harry to get outside and away from everyone's prying eyes. He was forever surrounded by students that had abandoned him and cast suspicion all year who now wanted to know what really happened, so he always came when invited. Draco treasured the time they spent together alone, and was not looking forward to a summer apart.

"Are you going to be okay this summer?" Harry asked him quietly as they sat on the Hogwarts bridge. Their feet dangled, and Draco took a picture looking straight down.

"You're worried about me?" Draco asked, astonished. "I reckon I'll be fine if I keep my mouth shut. Lucius is bound to be livid about you, but if I keep to myself I'll be okay. What about you and the Dursley's?"

"I've dealt with them this long," he said with a shrug. "I wish we could see each other this summer. It gets lonely."

"I'll write," Draco promised. "Hey, maybe I'll be able to sneak out and visit."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I'd love to see you try to figure out the underground," he said with a laugh.

"I'm serious!" Draco said with renewed energy. "My parents think I'm in my room all the time anyway. They always leave me alone. Don't the Dursley's ever go to London?"

"Sometimes," Harry said. "Aunt Petunia goes shopping. Dudley and Uncle Vernon go to movies and the arcade. They make a day of it, go to a show. I'm not sure they'd let me go with them though, I'm usually left home."

"Worth a shot," Draco argued. They agreed to try, and Harry would write if they were planning a trip so that they could make a plan to meet.

Draco took one last picture before packing his camera away in his trunk. It was the common room, himself and his three best friends in front of the fireplace. The grinned for the camera, and Draco made copies for everyone.

He regarded the photo the night he returned from Hogwarts with a mixture of sadness and longing - because he could see how truly happy he was in it then, just a few short hours. His left arm had been broken by Lucius when they'd got home, then reset by his mother. It was still tender. He couldn't see out of one eye since it was swollen shut. She'd only been able to fix the arm before he ordered she stop.

"If he doesn't feel it, he won't learn," he'd said cruelly.

So he had a black eye. And a split lip. But who was counting?

He glanced at a calendar on his wall. Ten weeks and three days til he boarded the train.

But who was counting?

It was two weeks later that Hedwig came to his window baring a note from Harry.

 _Draco,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well. The Dursley's are as pleasant as ever._

 _I've managed to convince them to bring me with them to Muggle London next Saturday. They agreed to drop me off near the Leaky and since they don't really care where I go or what I do, I'm to be at the meeting point at 9:00 in the evening, or else. Nothing will happen to me, they've just promised to leave me there and let me walk home to Surrey._

 _We're leaving early, so I'm told we'll get there around 8:00. We'll have all day. The Dursley's can't imagine what I'm up to because I don't have any money - I think they're hoping I get up to no good and arrested so that they can not post bail. Jokes on them, I'm stopping at Gringott's first and changing some money over._

 _Please say you can make it! Otherwise I'll have to find something else to do all day. Any time away from them is amazing but it'll be much more fun with you._

 _Let me know,_

 _Harry_

Draco scrambled for a quill, pushing a tin of owl treats to Hedwig. "Let me reply," he said, and she hooted in agreement.

 _Harry,_

 _YES. I was hoping you'd write and tell me you could get away. Don't worry, I'll be able to get away. And if I can't I'll Floo out anyway._

 _I'll meet you in the Leaky around 8 next Saturday._

 _Can't wait,_

 _Draco_

For a week Draco hard studied in his room. He kept out of his fathers way, and held a civil tongue in his head at the dinner table. If he didn't agree with something he kept silent. If he had a differing opinion he didn't share it. And on Friday he told his father he wanted to go to London with his friend the next day.

"One of your... Gryffindor friends?" Lucius asked disdainfully.

"Yes," Draco said stiffly.

"When will you be back?"

Draco's heart beat faster. He was halfway to a yes. "Around nine thirty," he said quickly, eager to please.

"And where will you be all day?"

"I'm not sure," Draco admitted. "We're meeting at Gringott's." He very purposefully did not mention that they had immediate plans to go into Muggle London.

"I suppose you may." Draco fought for composure, not wanting his father to see just how delighted he was with this decision, or he might wonder why.

Draco could hardly sleep that night. He barely registered the pancakes he ate in the morning. He was eager to get out of the house and Floo to Diagon Alley, and even found himself changing clothes twice in anticipation. "It's not a date," he muttered under his breath to himself. But still, he chose his nicest short sleeved top, the one that had a collar and was a seafoam green, and blue jeans. He took his wand, even though he couldn't use magic yet outside of school, because it felt wrong to go anywhere without it.

He slipped into the fireplace, not wanting to call attention to his departure and give Lucius a chance to change his mind or ask more questions, and Floo'd to Diagon Alley a half hour earlier than he needed to. He couldn't help it - he was too excited. He jingled the gold in his pocket nervously as he waited for Harry at the Leaky, and wondered if the Dursley's might change their mind on letting him go. He was mid way through dividing a plot to get Harry out of Surrey, or to visit him there instead, when Harry appeared. Which was all for the better, since Draco couldn't navigate his way through the Muggle transit avenues anyway.

He resisted the urge to call out to him, knowing he'd hate bringing attention to the fact that famous Harry Potter was at the Leaky, but he did rush to meet him. He'd gotten his hair cut, and his face was thinner. He seemed more tan, too, and Harry told him he was doing a lot more outside chores trying to keep away from the Dursley's so he could get his permission form signed for Hogsmeade.

They set off for Gringott's in a hurry, eager to change some gold and start their adventure. They stopped at Harry's vault first, a decision the goblins made based on proximity, and he hastily stuffed his leather money bag filled with Galleons and sickles and a few knuts. Then they stopped at Malfoy's vault, and the goblin withdrew a certain amount of gold from the vault and passed it to Draco. It was the Malfoy family vault, he explained, and he was on an allowance. It was generous but had a limit, and he couldn't withdraw physical items, only money. He had a trust coming to him when he turned of age, although he had the key he wasn't able to access it yet. He had to be seventeen.

The goblin took the young men to the currency exchange next per their request, and Harry set aside half his gold and turned it into Muggle pound notes. Draco was baffled at the currency and almost changed all of his gold over, but Harry explained that the exchange was about five to one and he'd only need some. They set out through the Leaky to Muggle London with Harry attempting to explain how Muggle money worked along the way.

Their first stop was shopping for clothes. Harry needed a few things for year round wear since he couldn't wear Dudley's hand me downs one day longer. Draco helped him pick out a few tops, and some sweaters for winter. Harry picked up mostly jeans for bottoms and a new pair of trainers, but Draco managed to convince him to get dress pants and some nicer shoes for going out. He ended up buying a full suit, though he wasn't really sure why. After socks and underwear they headed out to the world again, leaving behind the department store. They had them hold the purchase until closing time so he didn't have to drag the shopping bags around all day. Since they had the whole day and Harry was never allowed to visit London, and Draco had never been, they took the morning to play tourist, visiting the London eye, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, and the London Aquarium.

By noon they were starving, and didn't bother finding anywhere fancy to eat. Harry pulled an indecisive Draco into a greasy spoon and they spent a half hour devouring food that would have made both Petunia Dursley and Narcissa Malfoy revolt. Cheeseburger for Draco, and a very greasy fish and chips for Harry, though Draco stole his chips. They were salted heavily and doused in vinegar and absolutely wonderful.

Harry and Draco bought tickets to The Phantom of the Opera on the West End for that night, as Harry knew the Dursley's were seeing Les Miserables - he would have liked to see that as well, but Harry explained that the run time was ten minutes shorter than Les Mis, so he was more likely to meet the Dursley's in time to go home. He walked a lot faster than them, and they were sure to stop for sweets for Dudley afterwards where he wouldn't. He was excited for this, never being allowed to see any plays with the Dursley's.

"I doubt the typical teenage Muggle is dying to see a musical," Harry said a little uncomfortably. "It's just that I never get to do these things, and I've always wondered what it was like."

He seemed apologetic about his wish to see the musical and Draco figured Harry felt like he was pushing him to do this, so he quickly said, "I can't wait to see this - it's been ages since I've been to a play, and I want to see how the Muggles do it."

Harry gave him a lopsided smile, and the two boys headed to the Thames to walk around for a bit. They got along so easily that they liked to walk and talk just like they did when they took pictures around school. Draco wished he had his camera now, but Harry explained that Muggle cameras did not emit a puff of purple smoke. He picked up a disposable one to show him, and the two messed around for a bit taking pictures of each other until Harry asked a passer by to take one of the two of them.

They dropped it off at a one hour photo shop, taking that hour to get ice cream and watch the gulls on the river.

"I was thinking about our flat," Draco said.

"What about it?"

"Well I looked into it, and you can actually rent when you're sixteen but you can't buy until you're eighteen."

"Eighteen is when muggles turn of age," Harry said. He hadn't thought about it that way.

"But when I turn seventeen I get my trust. And that includes a few pieces of property."

"Won't your father know about those though?"

"Yeah, but if we used the Fidelius..." They discussed what they could do back and forth, ending up no closer to a solution than before. It seemed like sixteen or seventeen was a long ways off, but every day they spent with their families was so awful they couldn't wait to get out.

"We'll work something out," Harry said quietly, and the two watched the river and sat in silence.

"Harry -" Draco started, then broke off, hesitating.

"What is it?"

"Would you still want to... I mean, you'd move in with me, even if you found out I -"

"Draco, I can't read minds," Harry declared, staring at his best friend.

"Forget it."

"No. Draco. Tell me what's bothering you. It's the thing, isn't it? Your big secret that Dumbledore didn't tell me?" Draco nodded wordlessly, and Harry puffed out a breath in frustration. "I'm your best friend! If you can tell anyone it's me. I've got your back."

Draco looked across the river, his heart aching. He refused to look at Harry. His chest felt like it was going to explode - he wasn't good at this. "I - will you - " Oh Merlin, he couldn't go back now. And wasn't it better anyway to know if Harry could accept him for who he truly was? But the fear of losing his best friend was paralyzingly. "I'm gay," he blurted suddenly, screwing his eyes shut tight against the world, and any judgement Harry might hand him. "I'm not normal. I'm a... a... f-freak." He took a shuddering breath in, and realized that he was crying, hot and urgent tears flowing down his face.

He brushed at his face, swiping at the tears with his palms. He was horribly embarrassed, had not meant to get into this today. Since he was a child he had only ever cried in front of exactly one person, and that was Harry. He felt a warm hand on his arm, turned and looked miserably at Harry, waiting for his friend to end their relationship.

"You are most certainly not a freak," he said in a tight, firm voice. "And of course I'm still your friend, you idiot."

Draco sniffled. "Y-you are?"

"I most definitely am."

They sat there for a moment longer, Draco calming down. He could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders, he felt so light afterwards. The truth will set you free, he thought. The secret had burdened him more than he had realized.

When his eyes had dried and Harry reported minimal redness (he cursed his pale skin), Draco felt steady enough to move and they walked along the riverside together. They picked up their photos, and Draco poked at their unmoving images in amazement. Harry and Draco's frozen likenesses smiled back at him.

"Harry," Draco said solemnly, "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything," Harry said without hesitation.

"Don't leave me."

"Where would I go?"

"Just... don't leave me. Whatever happens. Especially with V-V-Voldemort. I know this is all just beginning and you're such a bloody Gryffindor. I can see you trying to keep everyone safe and leaving, taking too much on. Just... don't leave me behind."

He looked at Harry then, wanting him to take it seriously.

"I won't leave you," Harry swore. "We're a team. You and me against the world."

They wandered around London some more, strolling through Hyde Park and trying to find 221B Baker Street. Harry was surprised that Draco knew who Sherlock Holmes was, until Draco explained what a legilimins was and that Sherlock was a wizard. 221B didn't exist for Muggles due to repelling charms, but wizards could see it fine.

Draco bought a fancy outfit and convinced Harry to stop into the department store that was holding his new clothes and change. They decided to go out for a nice dinner before their show. They went to a French restaurant with low lights and soft music. They went through a full appetizer, main course, and coffee and dessert meal. Harry insisted on escargot and Draco needed to try the frog legs. They split their appetizers and loved both. Harry very delightfully had magret de canard. Draco had coq au vin with traditional rooster. The chef was apparently very sticky about wine choices, and the waiter made a few suggestions that the boys immediately accepted. Either the maitre d' was supposed to do the ID check and the waiter trusted it, or the chef cared so much about wine pairings to the degree that he didn't care about drinking laws. They ended up splitting a bottle of red that apparently paired nicely with both of their meals, and had a chocolate fondu to share for dessert.

They spoke in hushed tones to suit the atmosphere, and found themselves both grinning from the wine and good food.

"This is difficult," Draco said half to himself, taking another sip.

"What is?" Harry asked, dipping a tangerine in the pool of heated chocolate and popping it into his mouth.

"Nothing," Draco said with a head shake. It was difficult to not kiss him, being in this atmosphere. He settled instead for reaching across and brushing his thumb against Harry's jaw, almost at his mouth. In the low light he thought he saw Harry blush - but then, it was more likely the wine.

They paid the bill and took their good mood to the theatre, thoroughly enjoying the show. At intermission Harry and Draco walked to the loo and back, chattering the whole way about the play. Draco felt absolutely giddy with the combination of alcohol and music, and had been jazzed at the chandelier drop. They scrambled back to their seats at the warning bell, eager to see how it ended.

After the play they had little time to spare - Harry ducked into the loo and changed in record time while Draco ran to the department store around the corner to pick up Harry's bags with his purchases before closing time. In a stroke of genius, Draco had bought a shirt at Gladrag's before they left Diagon Alley to get the undetectable extension charmed bag, good up to fifty pounds. They had shoved all of Harry's clothes in there so they wouldn't know he had money, and counted on them not paying attention to what he was wearing. Draco would owl him the bag later that night - Harry promised to send Hedwig to do so.

When Harry was dressed, Draco walked him to the car where he was to meet the Dursley's, and they chatted amiably about the show before his family showed up.

It was a quick goodbye. The Dursley's certainly did not want to meet Harry's friend, and Harry clearly didn't want to subject Harry to them. So when the family of three came to the car, Draco murmured that he'd watch for Hedwig and headed back to the Leaky to Floo home.

His parents had already retired to their wing of the house, which was ideal. He went straight to his room, not wanting Lucius to ruin his wine buzz and cast a shadow over his perfect day. The play had been fantastic, absolutely wonderful. Spending time with Harry was always a good time. But the real highlight of his day had been then complete and automatic acceptance his Draco by his best friend. It didn't matter to Harry that he was gay - it simply factored into Harry's friendship with Draco in no way at all. He couldn't have picked a better reaction, other than a mutual declaration and a confession of multi year crush.

He found it hard to sit still, though he dare not leave his room. He fiddled with his package to Harry, tying it and re-tying it to make sure it was as secure as could be. He had started to compose a letter to Hermione, who travelled a lot with her parents over the summer holidays but never failed to write back as soon as humanly possible. He figured that with no friends growing up she was all the more eager to keep up her correspondence when away from Hogwarts with those she was close to.

 _Hermione,_

 _Have you ever seen The Phantom of the Opera? Harry and I spent the day in Muggle London today and went to see it - absolutely bloody fantastic!_

 _How has your summer been going? I'm counting down til I see you, Ron, and Harry on the train._

 _Love,_

 _Draco_

He fiddled with his quill for a few moment, debating on adding a post script about the Muggle transportation he'd ridden in that day, but he heard the way the others teased Mr. Weasley. Lovingly, but they thought he was clueless. He would be better off asking Harry instead, as he never laughed at his stupid pureblood questions.

As though fuelled by his thoughts, Hedwig appeared at Draco's window then. He pushed Hermione's letter aside, completely forgotten in his excitement. It had only been about two hours since he'd seen him, but Draco couldn't get news from Harry quick enough.

He gently untied the letter from Hedwigs leg, giving her a loving stroke of her feathers in thanks. Then he hastily ripped open the letter and laughed at Harry's first line.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _We've robbed a bank - or graffitied a national monument, or mooned the queen, or whatever the Dursley's come up with next. They're certain myself and my very handsome friend (note the kind edit on my part) could have only got up to no good in London all day. But since they can't prove it, they can't be officially angry. And they're awfully upset about that._

 _What a pity._

 _I hope you got home alright and didn't get too many questions about all of my clothes. I'll be making as few appearances in front of the muggles this summer as possible in order to get my Hogsmeade form signed, but I've just been told my aunt Marge will be visiting, and she makes my uncle Vernon look sweet and adorable. I wish I could apparate - I'd just leave for good. Wouldn't that be fun? I'm sure we could get Mrs. Weasley to put us up over the summer. The more I think about it the more I'm convinced we should live in the wizarding world - then we could play Quidditch. Besides, you can let a flat younger._

 _Anyways, I'm knackered and a bit silly from the wine still. Send Hedwig back soon so that I know you got home safe._

 _And hey - about the thing you told me (I won't put it in writing for discretionary reasons) - I think you should know that it's really fine. I know I told you that at the Thames but I just wanted you to hear it again, to know that in your bones. I am with you. It's me and you against the world._

 _Yours,_

 _Harry_

Draco blinked at the bottom paragraph, feeling such a rush of love and gratitude towards Harry that he wasn't sure what to do with it. He picked up his parchment and wrote.

 _Harry,_

 _I wish I'd known we'd be doing all of those terrible things beforehand. We could have taken pictures._

 _I got home fine. No one was waiting up, so no one asked about the bag. I have a feeling I'll be avoiding my family for the rest of the summer too._

 _Living in the wizarding world would be fine - more freedom certainly. We may have to go live with the giants in the mountains if you want peace and quiet from your fan base though._

 _About the thing... thank you. I couldn't have hoped for better from you. Now that you know, I feel like it's not such a burden. Some days I really feel like it will be you and me against the world. And then I think that I'm okay with that._

 _Love,_

 _Draco_

He affixed the letter and parcel to Hedwig, rubbing her beak in fondness. "Say hi to him for me," Draco said softly, and she turned and flew back to her master.

When Draco heard that he'd blown up his aunt, he took every possible opportunity he could get to go into Diagon Alley and see him. Mostly he was able to snatch a visit here or there in between his mother's shopping trip, but when he had an afternoon begged off of his parents engagements and errands, Draco spent it with Harry. He got the full, unabridged story - drunks and bitches and brandy - and was horrified over their shared ice cream at Fortescue's.

Harry shrugged, like he was used to it. He described this big black dog he'd seen, and the knight bus, and Fudge's odd behaviour. They discussed Sirius Black for a while, putting forth theories and ideas with no great idea on where he could be. And then Harry lamented that he'd never gotten his form signed.

"That's okay," Draco said lightly. "I don't think it's all that it's cracked up to be anyway. I might not even go."

"Oh don't do that," Harry moaned, "You'll make me feel worse. Just because I can't go doesn't mean I don't want you to."

"It wouldn't be the same without you."

"That's nice to say. But truly, Draco, I don't want you to miss out for me. You can still have a good time."

They walked down the street together, giving a lingering goodbye before Draco had to join his parents.

"Harry, I - " Just tell him, you idiot, Draco chastised himself. "I'll see you on the train in September," he finished lamely.

That night he lay in his bed and thought about his failed confession to Harry. He could have kicked himself - he should have just told him that he wanted to date, and see what he said. But at the same time he knew what held him back was the force that Harry had in his life without even realizing it. He was everything. If he was gone, what did Draco have?

The rest of the summer passed in excruciating slowness. He enjoyed the train ride in - until the Dementors showed up. It would be the theme if the year. Everything's great, until Dementors. Harry confessed to reliving his parents murders, while Draco admitted that he relived Lucius' particularly horrid beatings.

It wasn't until after the first Hogsmeade visit that Lupin offered to help Harry fight dementors, which Harry immediately turned around and offered to Draco, that he felt some hope. Lupin had balked at first at the idea of teaching more than himself, but all Harry had to do was ask. It seemed that Lupin had no heart to tell Harry no, and they both managed feeble wisps of silvery white from their wands at each practice.

The rest of the third year was a mess. In between classes, which were predictably harder than last year, they had Blaise's fake Hippogriff injury plaguing Hagrid, the truth about Sirius' betrayal overheard in the pub, the Marauders Map to pore over, and the Firebolt given and taken, and given again.

A bright spot in the year was Harry knocking Zabini down with his Patronus while dressed as a Dementor, which had inspired Draco to redouble his so far pitiful efforts. He felt close, but hadn't been able to crack it so far.

And then, at the end of the year, Sirius' true story came out. Hermione threw the time turner over himself and Harry and threw them back three hours in time for the longest night of Draco's life. He thought he finally had reprieve when Sirius was free and bonding with Harry - and then Lupin changed, and Pettigrew escaped. Then it was a fight to stay alive, and keep Sirius alive too. They stood in the trees and Harry insisted that his father would come to save them all from the Dementors.

"He's coming - just there!" Harry said, but Hermione shook her head sadly. Then he ran out to the open, exposing his present self to his past self, but saving his own life in the process.

They rescued Sirius. Harry had to go back to the Dursley's, and Lupin was leaving, but at least they were both safe.

"He asked me to live with him," Harry said numbly at the end of term.

"I know," Draco answered. He'd been so jealous when Harry first told him, had felt so guilty when Harry couldn't go with him after all.

"I asked if he'd take you too," Harry added quietly, and Draco froze.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, struggling to remain calm.

"Because its you and me against the world," Harry replied. Draco felt a ghost of a hand touch his own. He looked down at where their hands touched. He felt tingly there. "Where you go, I go. He said yes, by the way. Maybe if we ever catch Pettigrew..."

"It'll work out in the end," Draco insisted. "I'll help you. We won't stop looking, I swear it." His throat tight. Harry had been given an opportunity to escape the Dursley's finally, and his first concern was Draco escaping his father as well. Regardless of his own situation, he wanted Draco to be taken care of too. And that knowledge was worth all the gold in Gringott's.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco and Harry wrote all summer again between third and fourth year. Draco wrote to Sirius sometimes too, at Harry's initial insistence. He was isolated and wanted to hear from him specifically. Sirius wrote about how his whole family was in Slytherin too, how he'd been the lone Gryffindor. They ended up having a lot in common, and Sirius said Draco reminded him of himself, which Draco found awfully flattering. Particularly in the small hours of the morning when he was hurting from Lucius' latest beating.

The only time Draco saw Harry that summer was at the Quidditch World Cup. By all luck they sat in the same box so he could enjoy it with his friends. He even managed to sneak off and party with them after, though he later realized it was because his father was busy preparing for the Dark Mark stunt. The next time he saw his friends, they were on the train.

The first few weeks of school passed as normally as it ever did when you were best friends with Harry Potter, and it wasn't until Halloween and the Goblet of Fire that everything went pear shaped.

Ron was furious. Harry was angry that Ron would even consider him sneaking his name in the Goblet. Hermione was flustered. Draco tried to reserve comment, knowing Ron couldn't stay mad forever, but thought the redhead was being a beast. He of course took Harry's side, which Ron was quick to point out in a way that made Draco's stomach flip. His taunting was a little close to outing, and though he hadn't told Ron about his orientation he must have been being obvious. Or at least, he assumed he must have been for it to be noticed by Ron's thick skull. Or maybe it was years of quietly pining for Harry that Ron had witnessed on the side that had clued him in. Either way, it worried Draco. Ron wasn't the nicest or most sensible person when he was angry.

"Ignore him," Harry muttered, but he too looked worried.

It wasn't until the Yule Ball was announced that Draco started panicking. Ron was finally speaking to them again, and Harry had certainly forgiven him, but Draco pointed out that they needed dates. He hurriedly asked Hermione before the other two could, who blushed crimson and advised she was already going with someone. A dark look crossed Ron's face as he started questioning her, and Draco rolled his eyes at them.

"I can't go stag," Draco muttered to himself. And he asked one of the Beauxbatons girls who, much to his surprise, said yes. When he told Harry, he looked shocked.

"Oh. Um. Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he snapped. "I'm not going to go alone, and I can't go with who I'd like."

"You like someone then - who?"

"I - what?"

"You said you couldn't go with who you'd like. If you could, who would it be?"

Draco shut his mouth with a snap. He could feel his cheeks burning. "Never mind," he said. Oh Merlin, he wished he could have kissed Harry then, just to see what he would do. But he instead buried his face in the book he was to be reading, not registering a word.

The Yule Ball came, and Harry mucked up his dance but was overall passable. Draco had to step outside though, as Hermione's upset at Ron had made him uncomfortable. He wished he'd had the courage to ask who he wanted too.

Speak of the devil. He was there, in his bottle green dress robes and his clueless smile. "The ball iss almost over," he said, a little sadly. "I kind of wish we did this every year."

"Harry -" he said, his voice breaking and trailing off. He could hear the music floating outside from the castle. And he looked so perfect standing in the snow. "I - you know if I could have asked anyone it would have been - " He stopped, feeling his eyes sting, not wanting to cry. Anything but that.

He watched realization dawn upon Harry, watched it settle over him like a weight. Watched him walk over to join him, and take his hand.

"What... you..."

"It's okay," Harry said, and Draco realized what he was doing.

He was dancing with him. A light sway to the music, holding him close. He was shorter than Draco, but steadier. So he led him in small circles, humming the song along with the music under his breath.

His green eyes were sparkling. The air was cold and clear. Spots of colour from the wind and winter air showed in his pale cheeks. Draco realized the music had stopped, so he stopped moving. He locked eyes with Harry and suddenly he couldn't help himself. He was just too perfect, even if he did need a haircut. He leaned in and did what he'd wanted to do since his first year. He slowly kissed Harry Potter.

Harry did nothing for a long second, but then hesitantly returned the kiss. Draco's heart soared, and he thought that maybe he should try a Patronus now. They explored each other's lips with great care, taking their time and experimenting. Draco slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, and there he found his heaven.

They jumped apart when they heard someone coming, and Draco straightened his robes nervously. Harry went for his hair, which Draco thought quite funny since it was actually never flat anyway. It always looked like someone had ruffled him.

"Ah," Harry started awkwardly. The couple that had dashed past holding hands and giggling were gone. "I d-don't know, er -"

"It's okay," Draco said, his face falling. Realization dawned on him. Harry was trying to tell him he hadn't really wanted that, or enjoyed it. Wasn't gay. "Just... giving your gay friend a Christmas present, were you?" Draco asked bitterly, his hurt hardening into anger. "Thought you'd throw me a bone now that you knew I fancied you, and got in too d-deep?" His heart was pounding, and his head was swimming. He reeled with hurt.

"No! Draco I -" Harry looked desperate to smooth it over, but under it all guilty.

"Don't bother," he said. He turned on his heel and stalked off to find Hermione and walk her back to the dorm. They could be heartbroken together. She sobbed in his arms when he went to her, and he gave her his handkerchief.

"The funny thing is, I never even liked Ron that way," she told Draco through sniffles as they walked to the tower. "I always - oh, bother! Draco!" She flung herself at him, pinning him between her and the wall. For the second time that night, Draco was snogged.

It wasn't bad, he decided. But it was certainly not near the level his experience with Harry had been. Not for the first time he wished he was straight - he could see it all now, an easier life. He'd take Hermione to the ball, and they could date and make each other happy. But he just couldn't be that man, couldn't pretend to be someone he wasn't. He'd have to break her heart the way Harry had broken his. He gently pushed her back, and she frowned up at him.

"You didn't like that?" she asked, then covered her face. "I am such an idiot. I thought you liked me."

"I - what? I mean, I do, but Hermione no."

"We traded books. And you're always so kind to me. And you're smart and handsome and... well, I guess I thought you felt something too, oh Merlin. I am so embarrassed."

"Hermione." He grabbed her arm, stopped her when she tried to run. "I should be so lucky to be with someone half as talented and intelligent as you," he said firmly. "It's true. I wish... I wish we could. But, darling, I'm so so sorry. But I'm in love with someone."

"The Beauxbatons girl?" Hermione asked miserably.

"No. I - er - Hermione, I don't... I don't fancy women." He blushed again, thought surely he had never had occasion to turn this red this many times in one night.

"You don't - oh. Oh! Oooh."

"Can you stop saying that?" Draco snapped irritably, walking towards the fat lady's portrait.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I hadn't guessed. It's a bit of a shock. So you're in love with -" she gasped sharply, stopping in her tracks. "You're in love with Harry!"

"Say it a bit louder why don't you?" He hissed, and she ran to catch up with him.

"I'm sorry, it's just - wow! Wow! Does he know?"

"He does now," Draco said tersely. He gave the Fat Lady the password and helped Hermione through the portrait hole. "He figured it out tonight."

"And?"

"And I'm coming back to the common room with you."

"Oh. So not good."

"Not good." He jammed his hands into his pockets, huffing out a breath.

"And because of who you are as a person you don't want to talk about it?"

"That's right."

"Well, I'll leave you alone then," Hermione said, fumbling through her hair for the pins that held it up.

"Hermione? You really did look lovely tonight. I'm sorry Ron was an ass."

"Yes, well. I'm sorry things didn't work out for you either."

They parted ways quite a bit friendlier than Harry and Draco had, and Draco lay in his empty dorm thinking about the evening. It had been so close to perfect, outside with Harry. He screwed his eyes shut against the pain, so keenly feeling his heart breaking all over again just thinking about it. They'd been so close. And then... then it was like the rug was ripped from under Draco's feet.

He heard the other guys coming in, knew it must be after midnight. He pretended to be asleep, not to hear Seamus and Dean making fun of him for being in bed so early. Not hear Harry quietly changing into his pyjamas next to him and sliding into bed. Not hear Ron punching his pillow angrily, or Neville's snores. And in the deep stillness of the night, he tried to pretend he hadn't heard Harry call out for him.

"Draco? Are you up?"

He said nothing.

Harry sighed, and his head hit his pillow with a thump. "I'm sorry."

He said nothing.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I was trying to say... trying to tell you how confused I was and I -"

He said nothing. His heart beat faster though, and he was sure it was so loud that everyone must hear it.

"Well. Anyways. I should have known... I should have been sure before we..." Harry was quiet for a long time, and Draco thought he'd fallen asleep before he heard "Good night, Draco."

He said nothing.

The next day, Harry and Draco wore matching bleary eyed looks. Draco was overly polite to Harry, and Harry looked morose. They danced around each other for a full day before they ran into each other going to the library. Harry dropped his eyes, muttered about forgetting something, and headed back to Gryffindor tower. Hermione shot him a meaningful look and moved to the library. Draco hesitated just briefly before running down the hall after Harry.

"Wait! Harry - I - " He slowed to walk beside his best friend, a little out of breath.

"Draco... you don't have to..."

"I was awake last night," he blurted. "And I agree. You should have figured your stuff out before kissing me. I'm a human being, in not some Potions experiment."

"I know, and I -"

"But. I kissed you. And it's very clear what I want. It's less clear what you want."

"I don't know," Harry said desperately. "I don't - I don't - "

"It's okay not to know," Draco said soothingly. He longed to comfort Harry then, but didn't dare touch him. "When you figure it out just... let me know."

"And what about in the meantime? Do you still want to be my friend?"

Draco wanted to shake Harry. "Of course, you idiot. I have to... protect myself. Knowing I feel for you so strongly. But it's you and me against the world, you know that."

Harry launched himself at Draco and the two shared a hug. "You're getting soft, Potter," Draco murmured when they pulled away.

"Maybe I'm just relieved." They walked back to the dorm together, library completely forgotten.

The time in between Christmas and the second task for the Triwizard Tournament was flying by. Harry confessed to Draco that he hadn't a clue what he was going to do once he worked out the egg riddle, and they spent hours combing through the library looking for a solution. He still didn't have it the night before the task when Draco and Hermione were fetched to Dumbledore's office.

"How can you be sure nothing will harm us once we're asleep?" Hermione asked shrewdly, and Draco could tell he wasn't the only one thankful that Hermione was there to ask these questions.

"You will be watched carefully the whole time," Dumbledore assured. "I would not do anything to put my students at harm."

Draco snorted, thinking about three headed dogs and Dementors surrounding the school, but Hermione kicked him so he shut up. They went through the logistics of what would happen, and they all eventually agreed. Draco would have done it even if it was the most dangerous thing he could do - because he was Harry's most important person, and that thrilled Draco.

When he was pulled out of the water he gasped for air on reflex, spluttering along with Hermione and Gabrielle Delacoeur. Fleur rushed to thank Harry, and Draco too for some reason. Hermione looked a little upset at this, but was soon too busy being wrapped up with Victor Krum to complain much.

The four friends were quickly wrapped up in Sirius' visit, and learned a lot about old Death Eater trials when they met. Sirius looked worse for the wear, but he was there, and that mattered so much to Harry.

They continued to send him food to the cave, and letters. Hermione sent him the Prophet every day after she finished reading it, hoping to encourage more dog-like behaviour and also supplement him with news in case he missed an issue. Draco knew that it made Harry nervous to have Sirius so close in case he got caught, but it was also very heartening to know he was near. Draco in the meantime started writing Sirius a lot more often, though he wouldn't explain why.

The truth of the matter was that he was trying to learn how to become an Animagus, had in fact been researching since the end of their third year. They learned about it in Transfiguration, only that was more abstract. It helped to have someone who understood the nuances. He was going to read more on the subject and bring it up with the others the following September.

That was before Harry was portkeyed directly to Voldemort.

Before the darkest wizard of all time regained his body.

Before Cedric died.

Draco refused to leave his side in the hospital wing, he simply flat out refused. He told Dumbledore that they could physically remove him, but he'd just come back. He stayed through the explanations, the madness of the truth, revealing Sirius to the Weasley's, and Harry's treatment. Madame Pomfrey let him stay, which likely had less to do with how minor his injuries were and more to do with how she'd seen them together in the hospital wing. Reading, making each other feel better. When she booted everyone out she simply didn't push Draco when he wouldn't leave.

Harry had taken the rest of his sleeping potion, so he remained unaffected and asleep the whole night. Draco read aloud anyway. Not from a Muggle book this time, but from one Sirius had suggested to read before trying to transform. He knew Harry couldn't hear him, but he didn't break the tradition and he needed to know this stuff. Sirius himself had fallen asleep long ago on Harry's bed.

Draco jerked awake, stumbling to his feet. Then he felt a blinding pain in his neck. He'd fallen asleep upright in the chair, his book now on the floor. The kink in his neck made its displeasure known at his choice of sleeping position.

Madame Pomfrey had been the one to wake him in the dimly lit hospital wing. He guessed it was the small hours of the morning, and he looked around confused. She stood over him now, not looking as stern as she ordinarily did. "So," she said sadly, "There will be war. I've seen it before."

Draco nodded, numbly. "I suppose so." He wasn't used to adults speaking so frankly about what was to come with the war with him.

"And you won't leave him." She gestured sharply to Harry, sleeping peacefully in his bed.

"No," he said with much more conviction. Of that he could be sure.

"That book you're reading to him - you'll be trying to turn into an animagus then?"

It was pointless to lie at this point. "I'm going to try. It could be helpful, we could hide. It could help us not get caught. He'll have to bring Voldemort down. Who else?"

"And I suppose you'll be roping Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley into this plot?"

Draco shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "That was the plan:"

"Well you'll need mandrake leaves. They're a class A restricted ingredient, very hard to come by through legal avenues. And you'll need to be in school when you do this, since you're not of age. I can owl you the leaves about three weeks before school starts, which will give you plenty of time to get started. With any luck you'll have studied all summer long and will be ready the week after you return."

"I - oh. Oh! Thank you!" He had considered how hard mandrake leaves would be to find, of course, but had hoped to procure them anyway. With Madame Pomfrey on his side this would infinitely easier.

"I would assume," she said very carefully, "That you would be properly registered. Once it was safe to do so."

"Yes ma'am," he said politely, and she gave a small noise halfway between approval and dismissal and left. A little baffled at his luck, Draco picked up the book and started studying again twice as hard. He would be ready, he vowed to himself, and he would protect Harry at all costs.

It was a miserable summer. Draco wrote Harry every day. A few weeks in, Harry was finally ready to talk about the grief and guilt he was feeling. He was ready to talk about the anger than ran through him every day. Draco wrote back, relating where he could, supporting where that failed. He had told Harry and the other the animagi plan on the train, Ron and Harry agreeing immediately while Hermione hemmed and hawed until she realized Madame Pomfrey knew and would help. He sent them each copies of the book he'd been reading in preparation. Ron told him they weren't at the Burrow this summer, though he wouldn't say where they were - but he guaranteed he could still get owls, so Draco carefully packaged the mandrake leaves Madame Pomfrey had sent him and forwarded them on to all three of them once he learned they had Harry.

The Dementor attack was a surprise, of course, and Lucius had been positively gleeful at the idea of Harry being expelled. Draco waited nervously for word on the trial, though he carried a steady certainty that he would be fine. It was like a burning in his heart, because he simply couldn't be expelled. Expulsion meant certain death for Harry. He wouldn't even have a chance really if he couldn't at least defend himself against Voldemort.

It wasn't until the train that he got the full story out of his friends for the summer. Hermione and Ron had been suspiciously vague, and even Harry had been too once he had gone wherever they were to join them. They couldn't say where they'd been staying, physically could not, and Hermione explained the fidelius charm to him. They were unable to tell him where they were, but they wasted no time in telling him about the Order of the Phoenix itself, as far as they knew. The weapon, everything Sirius had told them. It wasn't too long before they caught him up though, and reached a dead end at guesses as to the weapon.

"D'you have your mandrake leaves?" Draco asked the group. This perked them up a bit, and they all dug into their pockets for them. "Right. Well, I'm putting the mandrake leaf in my mouth tonight. We should do this as quickly as possible, because we haven't got the time now that Voldemort is back. We have to pr- be prepared at all costs." He'd almost slipped and said protect Harry, but he knew his friend would hate that.

"I don't know, that seems a bit fast." Hermione looked at her own leaf, frowning.

"Are you scared of something going wrong?"

"Well, yes, actually." She'd been hospitalized for the Polyjuice incident, so he wasn't surprised she was being cautious.

"Madame Pomfrey knows," he reminded her, and he slipped his leaf back into his pocket. "Tonight, after the feast. I'm doing it, and I'd like you all to do it too. But it could be dangerous, and I won't force anyone."

"I'm doing it," Harry declared boldly. "Anything to have an edge over Voldemort."

"Me too," Ron said, looking vaguely sick at the way everyone kept saying Voldemort's name.

"I'm in," Hermione decided tentatively. "But if I get stuck with a tail again I _will_ kill you Draco Malfoy."

The boys put the leaves in their mouths as soon as they got to their dorm, ready to get it over with. It tasted like dirt, and Draco predicted it would be a long month. The good news was that Draco found the sap in the leaf caused it to stick to the roof of his mouth when he pushed it up with his tongue, so he was sure it wouldn't fall out when he was sleeping or eating.

In the dead of the night, though exhausted, Draco found he couldn't sleep. The first night back to school was always difficult for him, and he was not a good sleeper anyway. He heard the snores of the others in the dorm, Harry included. But then he heard another sound in the dark coming from Harry's bed. A whimper.

"N-no," Harry uttered. "N-n-no! Cedric!"

Draco leapt out of his own bed quickly and silently, reaching Harry in two short strides. He shook Harry's shoulder.

"Mum..." he moaned, and Draco's heart broke for him.

He shook harder. "Wake up now Harry, there we go," he said soothingly, pulling him from slumber. "Come on, Harry. Wake up. It's not real." Oh how he wished it hadn't been real.

"Draco?" Harry asked, sounding very lost and scared.

"Yes. I'm here. Wake up now."

"Cedric's dead." Oh Merlin, he sounded small.

"Yeah, he is."

"Don't leave me, please."

"I'll never leave you, Harry, you know that. It's the two of us - "

" - against the world," Harry finished, and Draco squeezed his hand. He was fully awake now, he knew, and starting to realize what happened. "Did I wake anyone else?"

"No. You weren't being loud. I was just awake so I happened to hear... is it every night?"

"Most nights," he admitted. "Some worse than others. I keep seeing him, hearing him. Watching Cedric die. But in my dreams sometimes my parents are there, and they're disappointed."

"Harry your parents were there, but they weren't disappointed. You told me."

"I know. It's just a dream but... I feel like I've already let everyone down by not stopping him."

"You will stop him," Draco said firmly. "And I'll help you. Try to get some rest, Harry."

"Thanks Draco."

He returned to his own bed, now ready for a sleepless night. He worried, of course, about Harry. It was one thing to stand by his side when it came to the final showdown, but quite another to protect someone from their own dreams.

Since start of term didn't officially start til the following Monday, there were no classes on Thursday or Friday. So Draco dragged his cohorts out of bed at sunrise to perform Amato Animo Animato Animagu, the spell to help turn them into animagi. Ron grumbled, predictably, but Draco snapped at him.

"If it's too difficult to get up in the morning, then don't. You can just watch us all turn to animals instead."

Ron didn't complain any more.

Since they were up early already anyway, Draco convinced Harry to go for a morning run. It was an easy sell, and Ron ended up coming too. He didn't even gripe about it, and by the end of the run was talking about doing this every morning until they got snowed in. Happy to have some enthusiasm out of him for once, Draco readily agreed. By the time they got back to the castle, showered, and dressed it was time for breakfast.

It wasn't very enjoyable, they found, to eat with a mandrake leaf in your mouth. Everything you ate had the taste of dirt, like the food had been properly cooked and then rolled in mud before being served. Draco kept a light breakfast of toast and fruit before giving up, seeing Harry, Hermione, and Ron do the same.

Draco said he'd catch up with them later and headed to the hospital wing to check in with Madame Pomfrey. He updated her on their inaugural spells recitations, as well as the mandrake leaf status. She chuckled at him when he said all his food tasted off, and told him that's the price of magic sometimes.

"Madame Pomfrey, I was wondering if you might help me with something."

"Oh? Am I not doing enough for you Mister Malfoy?" Poppy Pomfrey asked, an eyebrow raised.

"No ma'am. I mean yes ma'am. I just thought... well, we're not really taught any healing spells in school, and I thought it might be useful to learn a few. If you had any books you could recommend, or if you had a few moments to teach me some things - well, it's up to you."

Madame Pomfrey looked sharply at Draco in that way that made him think she knew absolutely everything. She placed a hand on each of his shoulders. "You really are determined to help him win, aren't you?" she said, and he nodded solemnly. "The world could do with more people like you, Draco Malfoy. Of course I'll help."

She moved away from him and into her office, finding a few books on her shelves and handing them to him. "Take these to start," she said, and laughed when he looked at the stack in his arms with trepidation. "What, you thought becoming a mediwizard would be easy? Read those as often as you can, and come see me on weekends and after Quidditch matches for practice."

He nodded, and turned to bring his books back to his dorm.

"And pay attention in Potions and Charms!" she called after him, and he scurried away. He added study harder to his list of things to do.

Thinking that he really ought to start on his new assigned reading before he got too busy in class, Draco dumped his books on his bed and grabbed his camera. Fall left Scotland quickly, and he wanted to take a few photos of the grounds before lunch. He caught Hermione coming back from the library along the way and made her come with him.

"I've got studying to do you know," she protested with a pout.

"Class hasn't even started yet," he countered, taking her photo. She was easily one of the most interesting people to photograph for her hair alone.

"I know that. But it's our OWL year, and I need to be as prepared as possible. You too, by the way. These tests will determine our entire careers."

"You determine your entire career," he shot back. "No one will tell you you can't do something if you're brilliant at it, no matter your OWLS or NEWTS."

"All the same."

"Hermione, will you relax for like ten minutes? Look, it's nice out! The sun is shining. There aren't even classes. I promise when they start I'll study til my eyes fall out."

She laughed and pushed him. "Oh go on then. But stop taking photos of me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a troll."

Draco paused, frowning. He lowered his camera. "No you're not."

"You're my friend, you have to say that."

"But Hermione... here, let me show you. Let me take pictures of you for a bit, and if you still think you're a troll when you see them then I'll never take another photo of you again."

"No."

"Hermione. Say yes for once." She hesitated, and Draco knew he had her. "I promise, you're beautiful. Let me show you."

"What will you do with the photos?"

"Nothing. Add them to my portfolio. Give you copies to give to your parents."

"Well... alright then."

She was an awkward poser now that she was trying, but Draco quickly learned that distraction was key. She was so precise when taking direction, but once he made her think about something else, or laugh, or think abstractly - well, he knew the photos were going to turn out wonderful.

"Sit down here." She obeyed, and he arranged her skirt. "And look over there. Up a little." He needed her to smile, but not that forced 'say cheese' smile - something more. "Now stay there." He took a few photos, knowing these weren't the ones. "Remember the Yule Ball? When Viktor first danced with you?" There. That was it. He took a few quick snaps.

They continued through the morning, stopping only when it was lunch time. He set his camera on the table next to Harry and took a seat.

"Out taking photos?" Harry asked curiously.

"Mhmm," he said absently, pulling a pot pie onto his plate. "I'm taking more portraits now. Hermione's agreed to help me." He winked at her and she blushed with embarrassment, and Draco caught Ron's frown at this. Interesting.

"It's nothing," Hermione said with a wave. She clearly did not want their conversation on her beauty or lack thereof repeated. She needn't worry - he hadn't planned on it.

"Nonsense," he said. "If I didn't have a beautiful subject such as yourself, my project would be pointless." He watched Ron out of the corner of his eye, pleased that he seemed to stab his potatoes angrily when he called Hermione beautiful.

Because Ron was starting to get an ugly look across his face, Draco left it alone. Given his and Hermione's scene at the Yule Ball the prior year he assumed that Ron fancied Hermione - but nothing had been done since then on his part. Maybe all he needed was a little competition to bring that out again.

"Draco," Harry said, and Draco looked over. "Do you want to take a walk around the lake later since it's so nice? I bet you'd get some great shots there today."

"I'd love to," Draco agreed, glad at his luck. Since the Yule Ball he tended to let Harry make the invitations to do things, but he often invited Ron in an effort to make him not feel left out and Draco of course wanted Harry all to himself.

They set off after lunch, leaving Hermione to study and Ron to sulk about his compliments to Hermione. They speculated on what their animagus forms would be, and Harry immediately thought stag, like his Patronus.

"I mean, it's not possible to have two spirit animals, is it?" Harry said with a shrug.

"No," Draco said cautiously, "But there's a chance that your Patronus isn't your true spirit animal. For most people maybe they would be. But yours is kind of a tribute to your dad, yeah?"

"I suppose."

"I mean, everyone says you look like your parents, but you're still your own person aren't you?"

Draco on the other hand had absolutely no clue what his would be, since he'd never managed a real Patronus. He had come awfully close, he thought so anyway, but then summer had come and it was gone again. He'd managed the white wisps, but nothing corporeal. Harry assured him that once he'd done it one time successfully it would be like riding a bike.

"I don't know what that means."

"Oh. Um, you won't forget how. And it'll be easier after."

They strolled around the lake, Harry shoving his hands in his pockets casually and Draco fiddling with his camera. "So how's it going?" Draco asked, attempting nonchalance. "Did you get back to sleep after?"

"Um, yeah. Listen, thank you for waking me up before I woke the whole dorm."

"It's not a problem."

"It's just awfully embarrassing to carry on like that in my sleep since I can't really control it."

"I'm sure they'll understand if it happens. And I'm a light sleeper, I can always get you up."

They walked in a companionable silence for a while, Draco stopping now and then to take a photo.

"It's funny, Hermione doing a project with you," Harry said. His tone was cheerful, but there was an edge to it. Like it wasn't really funny at all. "You wouldn't think she'd be up for that."

"Well, we struck a deal." He focused in on a flutterby bush nearby, wanting to catch the waves, and then the details.

"We usually do this together. When you're not taking pictures alone, I mean."

It was clear to Draco that Harry was trying very hard to keep a light, conversational tone, but he was failing. Draco took his shot, adjusted his camera. But why would taking pictures with Hermione bother Harry? Unless...

"Well, she's got all that hair. The camera loves it."

"Should you be leading her on so much? Flirting, I mean."

"She'll be fine."

"But you -"

"She knows, Harry. I told her after the Yule ball. I'm just having a bit of fun and baiting Ron, she knows I'm not really flirting."

"After the... oh."

They hadn't really talked about it, not since the day after when they'd made peace. Draco could still feel that soaring hope, followed quickly by the crushing rejection. He tried not to think about it much, since even thinking about the good bits eventually led to the disappointment. Still, there was hope. Though Harry hadn't come to Draco with his heart in his hands, he hadn't said no either. He remained in a confused state as far as Draco knew, and he wasn't about to push it after what happened last summer. He steeled his resolve not to ask, and to let Harry come to him. If he ever did.

But still the wound felt fresh, especially voicing it out loud to Harry himself. "Listen, I'm picking up a sort of independent study this year and I've already got a load of reading to do. I should head back."

He turned away from Harry, not wanting to make eye contact or he'd know how rattled Draco was by his mention of the Yule Ball. It was just my hopes and dreams, Harry, that's all, he thought bitterly to himself as he made his way back up to the castle. He tried not to dwell on it, but he had a crack in his heart from the unreturned confession of his and some days he handled it worse than others.

He went straight to the dorm and picked through the pile of books on his bed. He started with one titled Practical Mediwizardry: A Beginners Guide, thinking it ought to give him the basics before moving onto anything else. He was soon lost in ingredients and wandwork and potions, so much so that he didn't hear Harry come back in, didn't even realize he was there until a shadow cast over his book. He looked up for the obstruction, blinking, and saw Harry.

"You're going to miss dinner," he said, "Come on."

"That can't be, it's only -" Draco spared a quick look at his watch. "I'm going to miss dinner."

"Not if you hurry. Come on then!"

"You've already been down?"

"Yeah. But you weren't there and I thought I'd better - well, let's go. I haven't had pudding yet."

They hustled down to the hall, just in time to grab a few pieces of chicken before dinner disappeared from the plates. Draco had one in each hand, and Harry had one too. They transferred it all to one of the dessert plates for Draco, and Harry made himself tea and found the treacle pudding. He went to say something to Draco, then realized that he had one hand balancing the book and the other one eating a drumstick - he was lost to the book again.

Draco was amongst healing theory and techniques when he felt it. A strange pull, something telling him to look up. He did, despite being very much engrossed in the text he had borrowed, and realized that Harry was staring at him. That was the feeling - the hairs on the back of the neck, someone is watching you feeling. He looked into Harry's eyes, that impossible green shade that he longed to capture properly on film, and felt his heart twinge. The corners of Harry's mouth twitched in a smile, and Draco really attempted to return it but could only manage to bite his lip until it hurt. His heart wasn't in a smile, not after their walk at the lake, and he couldn't be false with Harry. Not after all they'd been through.

When he looked up again, Harry was gone. So was over half the hall, having eaten their dessert and gone back to their dorms to hang out. Draco sat there until quarter til curfew, seeing no reason to get up. He pored over the text and shoved his feelings for Harry aside in an effort to learn how to protect Harry in the future. It occurred to him as he walked back to the dorm that his entire life revolved around Harry, but he had nothing for himself. He didn't have Quidditch, he wasn't the brightest in their year, and he was a family outcast. The only thing Draco had was... Harry.

Maybe that's why he felt this overwhelming need to study mediwizardy. Yes, it had originally been an idea to help Harry. But it could also help others, it was knowledge that was less common to most. It was tricky magic, and if he was good at it he might look at it long term. Maybe he'd work in the field when this was all over. But for now he'd learn the basics, and ask for combat healer training. He wanted to he able to help others even while everyone was in a panic, even while the world was crashing down around him.

He crawled into bed and shut the curtains, not wanting any disturbance. He stayed up late because the next day was Friday, and then there was a whole weekend before term started. He was three quarters of the way through the book and his candle burned low. He had no idea what time it was, but everyone was sleeping. He heard the light sounds of Harry waking in nightmares again. He crawled out of bed, placing a marker in the pages and taking it with him. He woke him quickly, before the nightmares even had a chance to fully take hold.

"Hey," he said in a whisper. "Hey, wake up. Harry. Harry!"

He woke with a start, bolting upright with gasps for air.

"Shhhh! Shh, Harry! You're going to wake everyone up."

"No," he said gasping. "No. No..."

"It's okay! You're here. You're here with me, you're safe."

"Please... don't go." He gripped at Draco's pyjama top, desperation in his eyes.

"I won't." He lifted Harry's covers, slipping in with him. "Just lay here Harry. I'll take care of you." Harry settled against Draco, holding onto him in this familiar safety of his best friend.

He opened his book, and he read until Harry was sleeping again, and into the night. He read until Harry's alarm went off, and it was time to do the spell again for sunrise.

"You're here," Harry murmured. "I thought I'd dreamt you."

"I'm here," Draco agreed.

"You're always taking care of me. Who takes care of you?"

Draco didn't answer, because the answer was plain to both of them. He took care of himself. He got out of bed with a small shiver for the lack of warmth, pulling on his sweatpants and tee shirt.

"Time to run," he said.

They got Ron up and dressed, they did their spells for the morning, and the three of them ran.

"You know, this is probably good for when we have to go into battle," Ron puffed, always the strategist. "Keep fit, be quick, all that."

"And for Quidditch too," Harry replied.

And for sanity Draco thought to himself, but said nothing. He just ran, letting the tiredness of his all nighter wash away in the adrenaline of the run.

He finished his book at the breakfast table, then spent the morning going through the chapters and taking notes on what he felt was important and might want to refer back to after he'd returned the book. And he was most pleased when he got a paper cut from handling his parchment and was able to clumsily heal himself. It wasn't supposed to hurt, although it did. But he was still learning after all. The fact that he'd been able to close it up at all gave Draco a great sense of satisfaction.

He showed Madame Pomfrey his finger with pride on Saturday morning, but she just tutted and waved her wand over it. The small line that had remained after the cut had sealed itself had vanished.

"You'll have to be much better than that, Mister Malfoy," she told him, but he thought she was trying not to smile. "And what's all this then?" she asked, gesturing to his sheaf of parchment.

"Notes," he said simply. "And I have fresh parchment for anything you're teaching me now."

"You're treating this like a class lesson then? I thought it was more for your... personal knowledge."

"Well, it is, really," he said, sort of embarrassed now. "But I thought maybe... if I was good enough... maybe I could train to be a Healer. After Hogwarts."

Madame Pomfrey beamed at him now. "Did you now? Well it's hard work and study, but you seem to have a good start. I'll show you what I can. And you'll hand me an essay next weekend about the proper technique to heal minor cuts next weekend - a foot, and not a word less!"

"Yes ma'am," he said, and she sent him to clean the sheets.

"Don't house elves do this normally?" Draco asked, grumbling as he sorted through the sheets.

"Usually," Madame Pomfrey confirmed. "But you won't always have house elves available to you. And it's important to know how to do this by hand just in case. And why are we cleaning sheets?"

"Because everything must be kept as sterile as possible."

"Any why must everything be sterile?"

"To prevent the spread of disease," he recited.

"And?"

"And because clean sheets make people feel better, and we now know that people's attitudes effect their magic and their healing."

"Very good, Draco. Take five points for Gryffindor."

They carried on that way all day. He sterilized all of the sheets and blankets and made the beds in the morning, and sterilized all of her equipment and instruments in the afternoon. She quizzed him throughout, peppering him with questions from the book he'd read. By the end of the day he was tired but reasonably knowledgable in healing basics.

When he returned on Sunday morning he handed Madame Pomfrey a roll of parchment containing the essay she had set for him.

"But I set that for next weekend," she told him, accepting the essay automatically.

"I thought it best to write while it was fresh, before term officially started."

"Even though you did all that work yesterday?"

Draco shrugged, and Madame Pomfrey told him to go to her office and wait for him. When she rejoined him, Professor McGonagall was with her.

"Er, hello Professor," he said politely, standing automatically as he did every time a lady entered the room. The old manners were drilled into his head.

"Please, have a seat," McGonagall said, and he did so. Once she had sat first. "Madame Pomfrey tells me you have taken an interest in Healing."

"Yes ma'am."

"According to her you are doing quite well."

"Thank you ma'am."

"Since you are treating this seriously we are going to reward your efforts appropriately."

"Ma'am?"

"We are going to be treating this as an independent study from here on," Madame Pomfrey explained. "I've gotten permission from your head of house to make it official."

"Independent studies are not given lightly, especially not in OWL years. But given your dedication and exception has been made," Professor McGonnagall added.

"Er - what does an independent study involve?"

"Exactly what you're doing now," Madame Pomfrey said, which calmed Draco quite a bit. "There will be extra written work to ensure you are understanding the theories, as well as a final thesis on a topic of your choosing. Three rolls of parchment at minimum."

"The reward for your work will be an improved letter grade based on extra work done for Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, and Charms. Your assignments will reflect these subjects in relation to Healing. Your other professors will be notified in order to provide extra support where necessary."

"Would this be a one year only situation?"

McGonagall and Pomfrey traded a glance. "Typically these studies are only for one year, but we can reassess in the future if you like," Professor McGonagall advised.

"However, I could contact St. Mungo's and see if - well, maybe we ought to wait a few weeks to see how you do first." Madame Pomfrey said.

"See if what?" Draco asked, feeling nervous for reasons he could not quite identify.

"Well, trainee healers and mediwizards have to do training hours at a hospital. Most, obviously, go to St. Mungo's for training, though there are other private institutions, such as Hogwarts." Madame Pomfrey straightened a little with pride and continued. "All institutions must have a qualified trainer. I have been the only Healer here for many years, and am properly qualified to train. If this is a career you are serious about following then we can log official hours during the school years."

Draco's heart fluttered. A real shot at a career that could help others - and he could get a head start. "I'd like that," he said eagerly. "If you were willing, I mean. How many hours do trainees need to log?"

"Three thousand hours."

"Three thou - oh. That's a lot."

"Yes. But you see, most Healers spread it out over three years, in between their studies. If you work hard you could get a lot of your hours logged over the school holidays and weekends. You still have three years of school after all."

"Your OWLs will of course take precedence," His head of house interjected. "If you are unable to get into the required NEWT level classes then this is pointless, after all."

"Understood." Draco was already making a timetable in his head for when he could be available to help in the hospital wing.

He walked into the common room in a bit of a daze that evening before dinner.

"Draco, are you all right?" Harry asked, peering at him.

"Yes. Yeah, I, er - this is so weird."

His friends gathered closely as he told them about his independent study turned healer trainee program. Madame Pomfrey had filled him in on the hours - the three thousand was meant to be split in three, as trainees typically went through a three year program to become healers. The first year was all study and sitting in as observers, writing reports on what they experienced. The second year offered practical labs as well, with one full term spent at St. Mungo's learning and doing research projects. The third year was spent entirely in hospital, turned over to the Mediwitch and Mediwizards to train as saw fit for their remaining hours. It was typically weekends only for the first year which averaged out to five hundred hours, five hundred hours in the second year for the full three month semester interning, and then two thousand hours in the full training year.

He had given a tentative schedule to Madame Pomfrey detailing ten hours on Saturday, and ten hours on Sunday. He would do the extra work during the week with his other studies, and he arranged to drop Care of Magical Creatures in order to make room for the independent study, something McGonagall only allowed because of his narrow field of focus. Students typically were not permitted to drop classes until the sixth year, but it was argued on his behalf by Madame Pomfrey that Draco's independent study was enough work to justify a course on its own. More than, when you factored in the practical hours that Draco intended on keeping.

He'd already owled his parents to let them know he wouldn't be coming home for Christmas or Easter. He rather thought they would be relieved, seeing as they no longer had anything in common. But his mum wrote back telling him they'd send their gifts to school, and have fun with his friends. He had made the executive decision to not tell them about his arrangement with Madame Pomfrey. He rather thought that his father would not agree that it was a viable career path for a Malfoy to be a public servant. Malfoy's were businessmen, community leaders. He could only imagine his fathers disgust at his afternoon scrubbing bedpans and learning how to clean sheets with and without magic.

Hermione was practically sick with envy when she heard about his independent study and career jump start. Especially when he told her he would jump a letter grade in four subjects if he did well, and that his thesis paper would count towards fifty of his hours. Of course, he'd end up putting three times that into his paper, but it was nice that he'd get rewarded for it in some way. He was already thinking of themes for his thesis, and ignoring Hermione's hundreds of ideas. He loved her, truly, but this was his project, not hers. He told her as much and she'd given him a cold look, and ignored him the rest of the night.

Madame Pomfrey back signed the hours he'd already worked in the hospital wing, which meant he'd already had twenty under his belt, and planned on having twenty every weekend. Every weekend he could he would work ten hours each day, and every day of Christmas and Easter break. If he just pushed himself, he could get a thousand hours done before end of term. And if he got a thousand hours, he was a third of the way through his training program. And if he managed to get through the training program during Hogwarts he'd be able to be a healer after the war, separate from his father, separate from any expectations. Just something for himself for once that he was good at and didn't have Hermione's influence running under it.

Something that was his own.

The first day of classes came went went with no small drama, thanks to Harry and his newly ignited temper. He was proud of his friend of course for being able to stand up for himself, for Cedric, for all of them - but he had the distinct impression that one ought not to trifle with Umbridge. A weeks worth of detentions didn't seem so bad, but she had a hard look in her eye under that fake sugary sweetness that Draco didn't like.

Draco couldn't worry about it though. It was already done, after all, and he'd have enough people telling him to control his temper. And Draco himself had loads of homework to do, and he wanted to read up on a few thesis ideas for his healer trainee course. He ended up working into the night each night, usually being there when Harry came back from detention throughout the week. Ron was predictably behind as well, and the two often worked together on homework while Draco worked on his independent study.

When he found out what happened during detentions, he almost lost it. In the end it was Hermione who pulled him back to the edge of reason where he'd jumped off, wand in hand and ready to find Umbridge.

"It won't do any good to anyone if you end up expelled!" she argued hotly. "What we ought to do is go to McGonagall."

But that was where Draco drew the line. If they did that they would be betraying Harry, and he'd rather cut off his own arm than do that. He was as loyal as they came, and when Hermione suggested his crush might have something to do with it he icily replied, "Well I'd do the same for you or Ron, and I certainly don't want to shag either of you." She stopped speaking to him then, and he wasn't sure he particularly cared. They both apologized the next morning, and agreed that they had different ways of handling stress and protecting Harry.

When Harry agreed to host a secret defence against the dark arts course, Draco was thrilled. It was a thrilling idea, going so blatantly against Umbridge, rebelling. It made his blood pump faster, and his heart soar. It was an idea, free of their parents plans and perceptions, to prepare themselves for a war that only they could see coming. He stood behind him, literally, as Harry had talked about it not being a child's game, of facing all these awful things and not having a clue what to do. He stood behind him when he talked about his own worst nightmares.

And that night, when he relived them, Draco climbed into bed with Harry and read him through the bad dreams into the morning.

The next day they managed to get all of the ingredients ready for the animagus potion. Madame Pomfrey helped them out more than a little here, and kept their potion for them. She often had to brew sensitive items, and kept the potion outside her office door in the moonlight. Each morning she took it in and covered it so that sun would not hit it and spoil the brew, and the four checked on it as often as they could.

By the end of November all they needed was a lightening strike, and they were waiting with baited breath. Maybe they would have a winter storm, and maybe not. They just had to wait and see really, and there was nothing else to be done for it. November rolled into December, and the four continued to study, participate in the DA, and working in the hospital wing. He'd chosen his thesis, and wrote on combat mediwizardy techniques with a theme of modern tools and techniques and their merits in the current antiquated system.

Draco had gone to bed early on the last night of the DA meeting before term. He'd heard Harry talk about kissing Cho Chang afterwards, had decided to go devastated to bed where he wouldn't have to hear about it, or talk about it, or have it exist. He knew Harry was dying to discuss it with them, holding back because he didn't want to feel awkward about it due to Draco's presence. So he removed himself from the equation, and waved Hermione off when she started to follow him. He wanted to be left alone to self pity. He tried to read, but the pages and words blurred together. The elation he felt over finally producing a Patronus that class, a sharp and majestic falcon, was a faded memory compared to the misery he felt now.

Harry had kissed someone else.

Harry had kissed a girl.

Harry didn't look particularly put out by it either. He looked stunned. Dazed. Gobsmacked.

Draco gave up, putting the book aside and going instead to the common room. His big idea was to study instead, hoping the repetition of the coursework he'd learned that week would distract him. He still had a personal goal of an O in all subjects, and he really needed to study History of Magic. He usually used that class to work on his thesis since he couldn't pay attention to Binns anyway and he knew he didn't need a passing grade in that class to get into Healing. But he knew his father would kill him if he failed anything, so he studied his history textbook as homework.

" - even fancy her anymore?" Draco heard Hermione say in a low voice. He paused at his position on the stairs.

"I dunno - it was so odd, with her crying and all. It wasn't like snogging, it was like..."

"Consoling?"

"Yes, exactly, Ron. And I don't know if she fancies me or if she's just sad about Cedric. And I dunno, I just - there's someone else that I - "

"You fancy someone else?" Ron asked, floored. "Who then? Come on, mate!"

He could hear Harry hesitating, not wanting to say. Hermione saved him, swooping in with a pert, "That's none of our business, Ronald," and switching the subject to homework.

Draco's heart felt a thousand times lighter. He knew he shouldn't be thrilled about Harry being confused still, but at least he wasn't sure if he liked Cho. And he was absolutely certain that he was Harry's other fancy. Hearing it laid out that way did something for him, stirred his chest with excitement in a way that nothing else did.

He bounded down the stairs, pulling his History of Magic book from his bag. "Ron, quiz me on the goblin risings will you?" he asked, tossing his book over to the redhead. Hermione threw him a knowing glance, but he ignored her. Because he still had a chance, and Harry sat next to him, and Merlin he'd miss him over Christmas.

Madame Pomfrey was the one who filled him in on where Harry and the Weasley's had all gone off to so suddenly right before Christmas, a few days before term ended. He let Hermione know, and the two waited anxiously. Hermione, until she could send letters. Draco would get nothing but second hand information thanks to his exclusion from wherever they stayed over the holidays now. He cursed his father and his name for the thousandth time as he scrubbed the hospital wing down and treated patients.

The only upside to the Christmas holidays was that Madame Pomfrey had been impressed by his work so far, and was taking advantage of the less busy holidays to let Draco actual heal people with his wand. Previously he could only brew and administer potions under her watchful eye, as well as change bandages and bedsheets and, of course, scrub bedpans. Now he was putting salves on, healing cuts, bumps, and bruises - even performing rudimentary diagnostic checks. The problem with those was you never knew if you were doing it right until it worked, so he could be completely missing a diagnoses based on the fact that he might be doing it wrong. Madame Pomfrey just chuckled at him and told him that this was why they studied and practiced. So he kept Healing and studying and making sure he would be ready for the war when it came.

On Christmas Day he found Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing as usual, and she tried to shoo him away.

"You're here," he argued. "Why can't I work too?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, if you insist on staying fine then. But at least open your present." She cast a quick summoning charm and a wrapped present came soaring out of her office and into her hand. She passed it to him and he took it, dumbstruck.

"You got me a present?" Draco said curiously, shaking it. "What is it?"

"Well open it and find out."

He carefully undid the festive wrappings, and uncovered a deep burgundy leather bound book. There was no title on it, just the medical symbol, the wand with the bandages coming out and wrapping around itself. His name was stamped on the front. He flipped through it, and found that it was blank, with lined pages and blank pages and all sorts of sections.

"It's a medical log book," she explained. "All mediwizards have one. Trainees at St. Mungo's don't really need to use them until they finish their thousand hours and start working in the hospital proper for the rest, but I thought it would be good practice for you."

"What do I do with it?" Draco asked, running a hand down one of the pristine pages.

"You mark down every patient you see. You write down symptoms and treatments, and everything you did to help them. You write down follow ups if they come back. You sketch out what you can."

Draco's mouth was dry. He felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards Madame Pomfrey that made his chest ache with the urgency. He felt very suddenly like he might cry, because no one had ever supported him through something so steadily as she had with his training, and she was so much like a second mother to him that he felt ashamed he had not thought to get her anything in return. She got him something that all mediwizards had. She really believed that he could do this.

"Madame Pomfrey - I - thank you." She had always taken him seriously, always helped him along. "You - " He started, but he couldn't speak. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, lifting her a little. She laughed at him and instructed him to put her down, and waved him off to do some work.

And three days later she walked into her office and found it just filled with Christmas cactuses and poinsettias and all manners of Christmas themed plants.

He got the full story out of the Weasley's and Harry when they got back after term, including the Occlumency lessons and Voldemort using Harry. He spent a quiet moment alone with him the night he got back. He asked if Harry fancied a walk around the courtyard for some moonlit photography, and he agreed immediately.

"You know there's nothing to worry about," Draco said.

"Yeah, just Voldemort running around in my head is all."

"Yeah well, shows how much he knows." Draco lined up a shot of the snow covered branches, backlit by the moon. Perfect. "You're the most bloody honourable boy who lived, aren't you? I can't imagine he had much to do poking at your thoughts. You're too... dissimilar. You can't survive together."

"I dunno. Hey, when are you ever going to develop these shots? I heard you've been so busy over the holidays at the hospital wing that no ones seen you much unless they were sick."

It was true - he'd planned on ten hour days but they were more like twelve. He didn't realize how much Madame Pomfrey did. It was a round the clock job, and that didn't include the cleaning. He'd logged over two hundred and fifty hours over the break, a fact that alone made the long hours worth it. He had over six hundred now total from the weekends and term break, and was well ahead of schedule. At this rate Madame Pomfrey had promised him more involvement in actual healing since he'd done so well over break, and his grades were keeping up too.

"I'll find time. Hey Harry."

"What?"

Draco pointed his camera at him. "You know you've got a really great smile? Sometimes you just - especially when you're about to cast your Patronus - and your whole face lights up, did you know?"

Harry blushed a brilliant shade of red, but he also looked pleased. Draco snapped a photo, then walked a little closer.

"Remember last Christmas?" Harry had a quick shame flash across his face and Draco shook his head, knowing what Harry was feeling bad about. The lead on. "Not that. Just... before. When we danced outside, and the air was cold but you were so warm..." A dreamy smile crossed Harry's face, which encouraged Draco. He snapped a photo and took a few steps closer. "And I kissed you and - oh, I've never felt like that before, Harry. Calmer than I'd ever been, but on fire at the same time. My chest was tight, my heart was beating so fast it was all I could hear. And your eyes were so green I could swear you were glowing. And your cheeks were pink from the cold and your hair looked like it always does - like someone just mussed you up. And I wanted so badly to be that somebody." Draco snapped a picture and knew he had what he wanted - Harry, heavy lidded and eyes parted. Harry, eyes sparking with a dangerous desire. Harry, messy haired and ready to pounce, holding himself back by a thread of self control. So Draco put his camera down and removed the need for it, moving in and placing his lips a hairs breath from Harry's ear. He whispered, "I still want to be that somebody." And he nipped at Harry's ear.

Harry, who had been silent through this except for his breathing, let out a low, guttural moan at this, and Draco kissed him.

It was different than last years sweetness, shyness, and exploration. It was needier, heavier. Harry leaned into him immediately, and Draco felt his urgency, returned it to him. He backed Harry up a few short steps to the castle wall behind him, and was very delighted when Harry flipped their positions and pushed him against the wall instead. They kissed until Draco felt Harry's hand wander down to his very ready cock, and enjoyed the over the clothes touch for a blissful moment before putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushing him off just a little.

"We should stop," he said, hardly recognizing his own voice through the huskiness of his own need. "Before this goes too far. Before you're sure."

He watched Harry struggle to compose himself. "You're probably right," Harry said, sounding for all the world like he wished he wasn't. So Draco kissed him once more before straightening his own jacket and smoothing a hand through his hair.

They walked slowly back to the castle, and reality, and Draco fingered his camera, playing with the settings. He lifted it and peered through the viewfinder, focusing as they moved through the halls.

"Hey Harry."

He turned, and Draco gave a wolfish grin from behind his camera. "You know you're an amazing kisser, don't you?"

He snapped a surprised but proud smile, then they moved into the common room.

Occlumency lessons started then for Harry, and term continued for the both of them, making them each quite busy in their own right. They didn't talk about the courtyard, but there was an energy shift between them. They were hyper aware of each other - Draco felt an electric current flowing between them, and he knew that Harry felt it too. A sexual buzz, a pull that had been easily avoidable before that was now undeniable. For the entire month of January Harry and Draco acted perfectly normal, except that they both felt a stronger pull to each other.

It was to Draco's very keen disappointment then that he learned about Cho and Harry's Valentine's Day date, and opted to stay in during the Hogsmeade visit. He was so ahead in his hospital wing hours that he could have gone, but he had a sour taste in his mouth knowing that Harry would be there with her. He was so surly that Madame Pomfrey had given him a lecture in bedside manner and threatened him with a cheering charm. He made a concentrated effort not to speak unless necessary after that, and keep his face passive and neutral. By the time he left the hospital wing he felt calmer, but still annoyed.

Hadn't he been sharing this connection with him? Why did he have to run off with that bloody Ravenclaw at every opportunity? He shook off Hermione when she tried to talk to him after they all got back, and spent the majority of his evening avoiding the Gryffindor tower. He went to a darkroom in the castle that was set up for those students who were inclined to try their hand at photography. He developed photos for days, hiding behind his excuse of needing to work to avoid everyone. When he wasn't in the dark room he was in the hospital wing, and when he wasn't there he was trying to sleep.

It wasn't until a few days later when he saw Cho kiss Harry in front of bloody everyone that his temper spiked to a boiling point, and he left the Great Hall with a blackness in his heart. He'd given everything to Harry, had been more vulnerable with him than anyone in his life, and he hadn't had the common decency to let him know he was dating Cho. He was stomping off in such a temper to the grounds that he hardly heard someone calling after him, spun around in surprise when someone grabbed him. And when he turned and found himself face to face with Harry bloody Potter himself, he cursed and tried to turn away.

"Draco, wait! It's not what it looks like!"

"Oh?" Draco spat over his shoulder. "So you aren't taking Cho on dates in Hogsmeade and kissing her at school?"

"Well - I did, but I didn't mean -"

"I'm tired of this, Harry," Draco said, the anger suddenly draining out of him. His shoulders sagged. It had been replaced with the weight of misery. He daren't turn around and face him now, so he turned his head just enough, keeping his back to Harry still. "I can't keep being pulled around like this. I thought we were - that you might - but then you -" He took an unsteady breath. "I can't do this anymore. I-I'm going crazy with my need for you, and you've made it clear this time that it won't be returned." He walked faster then to the hospital wing, leaving Harry behind.

Madame Pomfrey was a saint. She never asked what was wrong, just seemed to know that he couldn't see Harry. He heard her turn him away for the third time that week at the entrance to the hospital wing, even taking 5 points from him for wasting his time after he feigned an illness to try to get in to see him. Finally, at the end of the week Draco dragged himself into bed, tired and worn down emotionally, to find a note on his pillow.

He almost didn't open it. He wanted to chuck it right in the fire, but he wasn't that strong. His fingers fumbled with the letter, which was sealed with the Potter family crest and had his name written on it and underlined twice.

He read.

 _Dear Draco,_

 _I have spent the majority of this year not thinking about you. Not thinking about your white blonde hair, and the way you blow it out of your eyes when you need a haircut. Not thinking about the way you bite your lip when you line up a shot in your camera. Not thinking about the way you play with your quill when you're distracted, or searching for an answer in class. I have spent so much time and energy not thinking about you, that it seems to be all I do._

 _I am truly sorry for being careless with you this year, since it was the exact opposite of what I tried to do. I never meant to kiss Cho, and found myself backed into going on a disastrous date. The kiss you witnessed was her forgiving me for something I don't even understand. And I know you hate that I'm talking about it here and now, whenever and wherever you're reading this. But let me tell you what I've figured out since all that._

 _I'm tired of not thinking about you, and have instead devoted all of my time to thinking about you._

 _I've missed you reading to me at night in my bed._

 _I've longed for you in ways I never knew I could. I think about our kiss in the courtyard every day, and I want that night to have lasted forever. And then I realize that it could, if I want it to. I just have to tell you, and hope that you accept me still after all of this. Because I'm not confused anymore, and I know what I want, and that's you._

 _I hope in the very least that we can remain friends. But I hope beyond anything that we can be more than that. I feel like we are on the verge of something - the most important relationship of my life. Let me be the one who takes care of you._

 _Yours (and only yours),_

 _Harry_

Draco read the letter three times over, and carefully folded it. A love letter, he'd written him a love letter. He wanted Draco. He put the letter in his trunk, inside of a book that also held a photo of the two of them, and the ticket stubs from when they saw The Phantom of the Opera. The bill from the restaurant where they'd shared wine and good food and he'd looked so stunning over candlelight. The little notes they'd passed during class. Photographs of them together. His heart felt heavy again, but this time with the reassuring weight of his feelings for Harry.

He tiptoed over to Harry's bed and shook him awake. "Get dressed," he said quietly, "Take your cloak." He didn't want to do this here, surrounded by snoring dorm mates. Harry rubbed at his eyes and obeyed, and the two slipped under the invisibility cloak and headed for the astronomy tower. It had the best view of the stars, and was far away from everyone - and no one went there except for class, which would have long ended.

Draco cast warming charms, which he'd grown rather good at in the hospital wing for beds and pyjamas. He thought he should have brought a candle or lantern, but the moon was full and bright, and he could see with no problem.

"I got your letter," Draco said, very aware of his hands and not sure where to put them. He wasn't sure when he'd been this nervous before.

"You did?" Harry's hopeful voice lifted Draco's heart, and eased his nerves. "I was afraid after... well, I was afraid you wouldn't read it."

Because that had been so close to the truth Draco didn't mention it. "I wish I hadn't lost my temper with you," he admitted. "But I just felt so close to... well. And then Cho."

"We were close," Harry insisted, and then Draco didn't have to worry about what to do with his hands, because Harry took them in his. "I wish I'd been stronger. I was sort of backed into that date and I wasn't sure how to say no. And it was rubbish anyway. It's never been right with her, and it's always been right with you."

"I won't do this halfway," Draco said before he could waiver. "It's all or nothing with me. That's why I wanted you to be sure. I'm apparently a jealous person, and I can't live like that."

"You're all that I want. Draco, you must know."

"I've been... wrong before." The hurt must have been obvious on his face, because Harry reflected back sorrow.

"I wish I'd never hurt you. Draco, I've never felt this way about anyone before and I've never... the Dursley's weren't..."

He couldn't finish, but Draco immediately knew what he meant. He had nothing to go off of, just the photo album of his parents. He'd been abused all his life, and this part didn't come easy to him.

"It's okay Harry." He felt any lingering anger he had held onto from last Christmas fading away quickly. He suddenly realized how foolish it had been to be angry in the first place for Harry's confusion. Raised in bitterness and hatred and violence, shoved in a cupboard, practically left for dead any time he was sick.

"It's not! I want to do better. I have to. For you, and myself. For us. It matters Draco. This... this matters."

Draco closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him. It was everything he ever wanted, and he finally had it. He felt Harry's lips on his, and he kissed him back with great enthusiasm.

They stayed up all night. They talked into the stars, wrapped together under a blanket that Harry conjured. They talked about their hopes, and their fears. They talked about maybe waiting to take things too far, despite both their wants, because they didn't want to turn their relationship into a purely physical thing. It had to be right, the right moment, the right timing. They talked about who ought to know - the consensus was that they would keep it to themselves for now, because Voldemort was searching for weaknesses in Harry. But their friends would know, obviously. Madame Pomfrey, just because of the time they spent together. Sirius, because they both turned to him, which would mean Remus Lupin. Basically everyone they trusted.

They wished on shooting stars, and caught up on the last week they hadn't spent time together.

They made whispered promises to each other in the quiet of the night.

They watched the sun rise, and Draco imagined no all nighter had ever felt so good in the morning. They crept into the dorm to return the cloak and pretend they were just waking up.

Draco itched to hold his hand all day, through breakfast, through classes - through everything he did. Harry walked Draco to the hospital wing and he stole a few kisses from him before slipping inside to work, careful to make sure the hallway was empty first. Madame Pomfrey noted his change in attitude, and he very quickly apologized for his boorish behaviour all week. He noticed that she looked as though she were trying not to smile, and got that look again when Harry came to drag Draco away to dinner.

"Good thing we decided she could know," Draco mused on his way out the door, "Since I think she figured it out in about five seconds."


	5. Chapter 5

The rest of March passed in a blur of working, school, and Harry. It was like he was living a dream, something he'd only ever thought of in his most private moments. It only got better when they sat in the Great Hall for dinner one evening and realized that it was storming out. As in, thunder and lightening storming. Draco looked at the fake sky and pointed dumbly up.

"Hermione..."

"Yes?" She was revising, not paying much attention.

"Doesn't Hogwarts: A History say the ceiling here reflects exactly what's happening outside?"

"Hmmm? Yes, that's right."

Then a loud crack of thunder shook the room, and everyone in it jumped.

"Put your book away," he said gleefully, "Its time."

They collected their potion from Madame Pomfrey's safe keeping, and she twisted her hands with nerves at their retreating backs. "Be careful!" she shouted at their retreating backs.

They knew exactly where to go, of course. Hermione froze the Whomping Willow and all four climbed through the tunnel into the Shrieking Shack, looking around the torn and dusty place.

"Well," Harry said nervously, "Should we get on with it?"

"It's now or never isn't it?" Ron agreed, and was the first to drink his glass filled with potion. Draco and Harry followed, while Hermione looked a little hesitant before doing the same.

"Well," Ron said, "That wasn't so -" Then he bent over double and clutched his stomach. Hermione, Harry, and Draco did the same, Draco feeling like his every organ was on fire. He remembered reading that something like this could happen, and the best way to deal with it was to...

"Change!" Draco gasped. "Change into your animal form, quickly! Do the spell once more!" He closed his eye and focused on lifting his wand to his own chest, said the words he'd been repeating twice a day since September, and felt himself begging to change.

The theory behind the spell they had performed every day was that they were to envision themselves changing, turning into animals. It didn't necessarily matter what they were envisioning, just that they _were_ envisioning. Then when it came time to perform the spell the change was supposed to be a bit easier, a bit less risky. It was like meditating, dreaming of what you wanted so that you could get it later. Though it happened in an instance, Draco could have identified every bone and muscle in his body changing. He felt a beak sprout. He felt his arms shrink in, and feathers pop out of his skin. He felt talons instead of feet. And in no time at all, Draco beat his wings and flew to a windowsill to get off of the floor. He looked around and saw that he was surrounded by a dog, some small brown animal, and another bird.

While bird Draco just wanted to fly, human Draco knew he couldn't leave. He wanted to see what his friends had turned into, and now that none of them were dangerous he transformed back to human. They'd agreed to do so, knowing that animals had a better chance of surviving and escaping an animal than humans. The first change was usually strange, and it took a few times to learn to control the animal brain.

He shook his human head, fully transformed back, and was glad he was able to transform with his clothes. He looked closer at his friends, and saw a white and ginger spotted jack russell terrier run up to him and lick his face. He laughed, and scratched behind Ron's ears.

It took him another moment to find Hermione, who had shied from the dog. But she seemed to remember that this was Ron and not an actual dog, because an otter came up to him and curled in his lap. He stroked her back, noting that the usual sleek brown fur of the average otter was definitely curly on Hermione's otter, especially around the tail.

Harry he was surprised and delighted by. "I knew you wouldn't be a stag!" Draco reminded him triumphantly, staring up at the rafters where Harry's falcon sat. He was exactly what Draco thought he might be, a bird of prey. "Come down here so I can get a proper look at you then, go on!"

There was a flutter of wings and then a rather heavy bird on his shoulder. The talons gripped in a little tight, so Draco held his arm out. "Down here." Harry moved down, and Draco peered at him. He was a falcon of some sort, that Draco was reasonably sure. He had dark feathers, was relatively small, and had the same startlingly green eyes.

He made the others sit still while he took pictures, so they could identify which species they were. This was Hermione's idea, though Draco wished he'd thought of it first. Then the other three changed back and Draco changed into animal form again.

"Draco!" Hermione said, snapping pictures. "I think you might be the same bird as Harry!"

Draco perched himself on the sill again, then fluffed his wings.

"You want Harry to go flying with you, don't you?" Ron asked jealously.

"Oh they've got to stretch their wings and test it out, go on Harry! Just don't be long."

Harry very quickly obliged, and Draco knew his was what he'd wanted too. He jumped out the window and soared, Harry following him.

The wind and rain had died down now, and Draco could hardly feel the cold while he was flying. He soared over the village of Hogsmeade, and over the Great Lake. He looked down and saw that his reflection was pure white next to Harry's dark shape. They flew together over the forest and dove, swooped, and generally had a great time all the way back to the Shrieking Shack.

They transformed back, and everyone went to the castle in a great mood. Ron was a bit jealous about their flying forms, but he settled down when Hermione told him she hated flying and thought his form was adorable. They went to the hospital wing as they had promised Madame Pomfrey they would, so that she could get a general check in on their post animagus welfare and learn about their animal forms. They did a transformation for her to animal and back, and she clapped with enthusiasm.

For the month of March it was blissful.

Then reality came crashing down on them in the form of Umbridge, catching them out in the DA. Draco's blood ran cold. It was a risk, certainly, even one he'd taken willingly. But if his father got wind that he'd been in fact one of the founders of this club... well, he shuddered to think. He still had a full year before he was of age after all, and knew his punishment would be severe if Umbridge wrote home to his father.

Fortunately she chose a much more barbaric punishment. Draco flexed his hand and felt the words burn into his skin. She had made the entire DA write lines with those awful quills, stating Disobedience must be punished. Madame Pomfrey was livid when she saw, but she couldn't do anything. He quietly mentioned murtlap essence, and they went to Hagrid to get as much as possible.

He gave Hermione the package he'd put together of her photos. He finally developed them all before the end of school, sorting through and making copies where he wanted. It made him feel better to do something that pulled his entire attention away into work.

"I almost forgot," she said in a hushed tone, reviewing them.

"I was so busy I hadn't developed them," he admitted. "And by the time I did it was very clear that Umbridge was - well, I thought you might like a boost so I saved them."

"They're - I look so - thank you Draco!"

Harry went to his hideout on Easter break, though he'd wanted to stay with Draco. He convinced him to go just to get away from Umbridge.

"You're not safe here anymore," Draco had snapped during their first argument. "She'll try to break you, and I won't have her touching you. Not more than she has!"

"I said I'd protect you, and that doesn't include abandoning you!" Harry shot back.

"I have Madame Pomfrey," Draco argued. "It's better than being at my fathers house anyway. Besides, I need the hours."

In the end there was no solution. Harry had to leave, wanted to see Sirius. And Draco needed to stay, couldn't go with him.

"It won't always be like this," he told Harry. "Next June I'll be seventeen, of age. I can come get you." They opted out of reality and spent an hour discussing their future before Hermione came and found them and forced them to study.

Careers advice went startlingly well. Draco advised he would like a career in healing and McGonagall handed him a pamphlet and the requirements, ushering him out. He looked in the pamphlet later and saw a note that advised him to see her after dinner. She sat him down and went over his career options in depth without Umbridge present, clearly not wanting her to know about his independent study. They went over his grades and he was pleased to see that barring any OWL breakdowns he was averaging an E in all classes with a chance at O in all the courses he needed for healing. The only ones he might get an A on we're History of Magic and Astronomy. She advised him to dump all courses not related to Healing in his sixth year and focus on excelling and working in the Hospital Wing. She advised him to see Madame Pomfrey about his thesis.

He went there next, anxious to see what she thought. He'd turned it in only the previous Friday, bound and cited, and was nervous about her grading process. He was floored when she'd given him the thesis back the second he walked in the door with not only a large O decorating the front page, but also well thought out notes and thoughts in the margin. She wrote on the front under the grade:

 _Draco,_

 _You've shown an understanding of Healing and it's complexities that I've rarely seen in of age wizards at only fifteen years old - I know you'd make a wonderful mediwizard, but hope that I can keep you._

 _Your grades are wonderful, and you'll have completed over a thousand hours by the end of the school year. You know you can do this! Do NOT let your father hinder you._

 _\- Poppy._

Draco took the manuscript back wordlessly, and blinked back tears.

"You'll have to keep working hard now," Madame Pomfrey said brusquely, covering her own emotion at his reaction. "But on paper you'll have almost 1,100 hours this year, and next year you'll only have to take Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Around your spares and holidays and weekends you'll have the chance to get the other 1,900 hours. It'll be tough, but I'll help you if you still want this."

"So I can continue my independent study?" Draco asked, barely breathing with anticipation.

"Mister Malfoy, I intend on making you a fully qualified healer by the time you graduate. I wouldn't let the most dedicated student I ever saw walk away from an independent study."

The rest of his out of class time was spent furiously studying his notes in every subject, since his thesis was handed in and he was graded. His original agreement with Madame Pomfrey was to stop working one month before the OWLs, but he showed up two weeks before with desperation in his eyes.

"Please," he said, "Hermione's driving me nuts. If I study any more my eyes will fall out. Please let me scrub bedpans."

She laughed at him and made him a cup of tea, allowing him to treat the students who showed up with exhaustion.

Finals passed with amazing speed and minimal issues, though he was concerned for Hermione's sanity by the end. Astronomy was a disaster of course once the drama at Hagrid's hut started, and he rushed to the hospital wing to help after the exam ended.

"Everyone get OUT of my wing!" Draco heard Pomfrey shout as he slid into the room. He saw why -- she hated a crowd when someone needed attention, people getting underfoot and all that, and every staff member with the exception of Filch, Dumbledore, Hagrid, and Umbridge were present, as well as a half a dozen students. She laid eyes on Draco and pointed. "Not you! You stay! Everyone else who is not dead, dying, or seriously injured will leave now or they may need a bed when I'm done!"

The staff skittered away, and Draco moved to stand next to Madame Pomfrey. Together they did everything they could, but since they ended up not being able to wake her sent Professor McGonnagall to St. Mungo's. Pomfrey left him in charge while she floo'd them to get her, and turned away a crowd of professors looking for an update in what was now daybreak.

Madame Pomfrey tried to send him to bed, but he went instead to her kettle and started the water to boil. "Sit down, Madame Pomfrey," he instructed gently. "You're a bit of a mess."

She'd been so busy helping McGonnagall that she hadn't noticed her own injuries. She had a gash on her cheek from when she tried to intervene, and her hair was everywhere. She was limping just a little.

"You're a sweet boy," she said when he handed her a mug of tea, sweetened just the way she liked it. "Heal me then, go on."

Draco produced his wand and healed the cut on her cheek, watching it disappear. Then he went and measured a half dose of a calming draught. "I have my History exam this afternoon and it's the last one," he told her. "I've got my notes, so I'm going to study in here. I'll handle anything that comes up and I'll get you if I need anything, is that alright?" He guided her towards her rooms near her office. "Please, just rest."

He expected her to argue, but she just gave his hand a squeeze and went to rest. It was likely the best compliment she could have given him, complete trust over her own care and over her Hospital Wing. He dealt with a few minor student injuries in between studying his notes, and when he went to get Madame Pomfrey at lunch time she looked much better.

He met his friends and Harry for lunch, slumping against Harry.

"Rough day?" Harry asked with a twitch of the lips.

"We sent McGonagall to St. Mungo's," he told them in a low voice, "then I had to take care of Madame Pomfrey and run things all morning. It's fine, it's just tiring."

He made it through his History exam, though he was acutely aware of Harry's freakout the second it happened. He knew it must have been another dream, but he couldn't help him yet. He managed to finish his History exam as best he could and rush out to find him.

The next twenty four hours were insanity. Umbridge's office, Grawp, the Inquisitoral Squad interference. He rode an invisible animal to the Ministry to save Sirius, and fought alongside the DA to bring down the Death Eaters.

He stood in front of Harry when his father demanded the prophecy.

"Step aside, Draco," his father said, using a tone that he knew all too well. It was one that said he'd be punished later for embarrassing him in front of his cronies.

"No," Draco said firmly, raising his wand, and the crowd wrecked the ministry in order to escape.

He helped his friends where he could, healing injuries and dealing with Ron. He watched Sirius go through the veil, felt Harry's heartbreak along with his own. He wasn't able to follow him as he ran after Bellatrix, though Merlin he tried. But Remus stopped him, and Hermione had to come help hold him back.

When it was all over he watched Dumbledore portkey Harry away, and absolutely refused to leave. Now that he knew Harry was safe he had a job to do. They transferred the students via Floo to Hogwarts again, to the Hospital Wing where Madame Pomfrey was waiting. Fudge wanted them at St. Mungo's, but Dumbledore insisted on Madame Pomfrey.

"These are her students," he said in a tone that brooked no argument, "And she will care for them." Draco saw every last student through the fires before going himself.

He jumped right into Healer mode, going from bed to bed and running diagnostics. Madame Pomfrey was busy trying to restrain Ron so she could check on everyone, so Draco updated all diagnostics and prioritized urgent cases. By the time Madame Pomfrey joined him he'd let her know what was wrong with everyone, what he'd done to them, and the potions they needed.

She trusted his diagnoses and agreed with them, sending him to the store cupboards for some of the potions, and getting him to administer them while she tried to get Ron back to his senses.

He went to all his friends and told them what to do in a firm but reassuring voice. They didn't argue, and he gave each one a sleeping draught on top of their potions.

Soon it was just Ron left, and he joined Madame Pomfrey.

"Ron," he said crossly, trying to check his pupils but unable to due to his silliness, "Shut up or I'll put you in the broom cupboard with the spiders tonight!" This did the trick, and he stood stock still while he learned how to reverse a concussion from Madame Pomfrey. By the time they'd finished he was back to normal, and was being held for observation only.

It was past midnight by the time everyone was taken care of and Harry wandered into the hospital wing. He waved off Madame Pomfrey even though he clearly needed medical attention, and went right to Draco's arms.

He caught him, led him to the nearest empty bed, and sat down with him.

"He's gone," Harry choked. "Sirius is - he's gone, Draco." Tear tracks stained his cheeks where they cut through the dirt obtained in his duels.

"I know, Harry," he murmured, silently healing some of his cuts and scrapes. He hadn't meant to, he just felt so strongly that he needed to heal Harry, focusing on the spell. "I know."

"I love you."

Draco froze. "Don't. Don't say that now, in grief. Mean it later."

"I - he was inside of me," Harry said, squirming with discomfort. He told Draco everything, all about the possession. "I knew he couldn't stand it when I thought of my friends. And when I thought of you, how much I loved you, he couldn't hold on. He couldn't hold on."

"Shhh," Draco said, pulling Harry close. His boyfriend sobbed on his shoulder. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. You know I love you too, Harry."

He muttered something, and Draco sat him back up, told him to repeat it. "I said, this is it. The love. It wasn't just my mum dying to save me. It's my own. It's what keeps me going." He was talking nonsense now about Dumbledore, clearly exhausted. He helped Harry into pyjamas and cleaned him up, then put him in bed and gave him a sleeping draught. A full measure of it.

He went to Madame Pomfrey's office where she sat with his timesheet. "I don't want those hours," he told her flatly.

"Too bad," she replied, "You're getting them. Sign." She pushed the parchment over to him and he looked at it.

She'd given him a straight thirty hours, from the second McGonnagall got hit with the Stunners until that moment. "You're mad," he said, shaking his head but signing anyway. He knew he wouldn't be able to argue her down.

"I'd give you longer but you need to be officially off the clock for this." She flicked her wand at the door and he heard it lock. She pulled two glasses and a dusty bottle out of a desk drawer and poured two glasses of whiskey.

Draco, who had been running purely on adrenaline until that moment, slumped into a chair across from her, taking the glass. He sipped, and it burned all the way down. It left a pleasant warmth in his belly though, so he sipped again.

"Congratulations on your combat training," Madame Pomfrey said wryly. "Let me take a look at you." She sipped her drink, then waved a wand over Draco. "Your fine," she declared.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," he admitted, frowning into his glass.

"About what, dear?"

"About my father. He's a Death Eater and he was there. He saw me. He knows I'm close to Harry now, knows I'll fight for him."

Madame Pomfrey reached across the table, taking his hand. "You know what to do," she told him seriously. "If you didn't, you wouldn't be upset about it. Sleep on it, and if you need help let me know."

They drank in silence for a while before she prodded him to tell her everything about their ministry rescue. She was specifically interested in what he'd done medically in the moment, and he told her everything he could remember doing. He stayed up through the sunlight drinking with Madame Pomfrey, and she eased him into a hospital bed to sleep it off at the end.

"Madame Pomfrey," he mumbled as he settled him in.

"Yes, dear?"

"Thank you." And he drifted into the sleep of the thoroughly exhausted.


	6. Chapter 6

When Draco woke up the hospital wing was empty except for Harry, who sat in a chair and read.

"I'm not sick," Draco said, though he felt a little queasy from the alcohol. He wasn't going to admit it though.

"Your tired," Harry said, putting his book down. "You've been taking care of everyone again."

"Well, that's kind of my job."

"I know."

"I'm turning my dad into the Ministry."

He heard Harry exhale. "Don't. Let me. It'll be easier on your mum."

"I have to," Draco disagreed. "It should be me."

They sat in silence for a long moment before Harry said, "You know I meant it. I was grieving. I am. But I do love you. I just thought I was dying, or about to, and I'd never get to tell you. And then Sirius -" His voice cracked, and he stopped speaking.

"I love you too," Draco said, feeling a bit light headed now, and not from the alcohol. "And Harry... Sirius knew you loved him." They sat in silence for a while before Madame Pomfrey came over to kick them out so that she could make the beds fresh. Draco was secretly glad he didn't have to stay to take care of Umbridge.

They wandered a bit, aimlessly at first and then Draco convinced Harry to go with him to check on everyone. They'd been let out of the hospital wing, but he still wanted to make sure they were all okay. They found every single one of the DA members who had fought with them at the Ministry, and Draco checked their wounds. He had a laugh at Ron, who couldn't remember any of the stupid things he'd said or done, and Luna was the first to congratulate Draco on his healing abilities. He flushed pink with pleasure when everyone else chimed in with their compliments as well.

Draco made a dreaded visit to Dumbledore to explain that he needed to turn his father, as well as several other death eaters, into the Ministry. Dumbledore called Fudge to his office and Draco made a statement. His father was arrested that evening, with anyone else they managed to find. He opened the howler from his mother with a grimace the next morning, and listened to her scream and curse him for betraying his family, dishonouring the name, and whatever else she could say to hurt him. Her last words, _I have no son_ , echoed through the Great Hall, and Draco simply stood and walked away woodenly.

He heard Harry calling after him, but didn't stop. His chest felt tight. He felt like he couldn't breathe. In fact, regardless of how he felt, he really couldn't take a breath. He put one hand out against the wall of the hallway to settle himself, gasping for breath.

"I've got you," Harry said quietly, putting a hand on his back. He was calm. "It's okay, you're going to be just fine. Just breath in, and hold it okay? Hold til five." Draco gasped for breath, and Harry counted for him. "Now out." Draco breathed on Harry's instruction, in for five, out, in for five, out - he felt himself stabilizing, becoming calmer.

"How did you know what to do?" Draco asked when he'd fully calmed down.

"It used to happen to me. Last summer, after Cedric. I would wake up and - well, I read up on it and I guess they're panic attacks."

"I just... that howler. I wasn't sure what to do. I'm not seventeen yet but she doesn't want me home."

"I'd take you in a heartbeat if it was my choice," Harry said, "but I don't think the Dursley's would be too happy about it."

"I need to talk to McGonagall," Draco said miserably. "I can't take the train home now, can I?"

They found her in her office, sipping tea with Madame Pomfrey.

"Draco! We were just - " Madame Pomfrey's eyes narrowed. She looked at Harry. "What's wrong with him?"

"Why don't you ask me what's -"

"He had a panic attack. His mother sent a howler about turning his father in. She's basically disowned him."

"Well I'll just leave the room shall I?" Draco said irritably.

"Sorry, Draco. But you wouldn't have told them the full story and they need to know."

"I'm not of age until next June," Draco said to his head of house. "I can't use magic when I'm not in school, and I have nowhere to go."

"Mister Malfoy. I will sort you out. You go and do something and I'll find you when I have an answer."

"But professor - "

"I said go, Mister Malfoy. I have a few options but I need to discuss it with the headmaster first."

Finding no point in arguing, Draco and Harry went for a walk around the lake. They went for a fly next, because it made Draco feel better, and it perked Harry up as well.

"You know we can visit each other over the summer now," Harry said cheerfully. "You need a wand to transform but it's more of that meditation stuff, not a real spell, and Madame Pomfrey said they can't trace it."

This did wonders for Draco's mood, and he was quite a bit more cheerful after that. Especially because they'd been able to have a proper snog on their walk as well.

"Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, and both boys turned to face her. They moved away from each other instinctively, though she'd already caught them holding hands.

"Ma'am."

"Come with me. You may bring Mister Potter if you wish."

They went to her office and sat down with tea and biscuits, though Draco had no appetite. His nerves had returned, and his mouth was dry.

"While the headmaster agreed that it was quite inappropriate for a student to stay at Hogwarts over the summer," she started, and Draco's heart sank. That had been his hope. "Madame Pomfrey has stepped in and pointed out that it would be quite appropriate for her trainee to stay."

Draco looked at Harry quickly, then back to his professor. What did she mean by that?

"Madame Pomfrey has agreed to extend your program into the summer. She says that half of your time would be spent here, working for her by brewing potions and such. The other half would be spent at St. Mungo's learning in a new environment."

"But... I can't do magic."

"Well, as a continuing education student, you would. Madame Pomfrey is arranging the details with the ministry as well."

Draco sat, dumbfounded. "I - th-thank you."

"Thank Madame Pomfrey," she replied smartly. "The school could only have tried to board you elsewhere at your own expense. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have it."

He told Harry that it was going to be a while - he knew he'd be getting a lot of information from Madame Pomfrey. He went off to find Ron and Hermione while Draco went to the hospital wing to he greeted by Madame Pomfrey pulling her head out of the fire.

"I've just finished with the Ministry," she informed him, brushing ash out of her hair. "They kicked up a small fuss until I reminded them of your role there a few days ago. You're all set to use magic this summer, with conditions. You -"

But he cut her off, engulfing her in a large hug.

"Well - oh!"

"Madame Pomfrey, thank you!" He said emphatically.

They sat down together and she explained the arrangement she had worked out for him. In order to room and board at Hogwarts he needed to be working in the castle, so he would work weekday mornings with her brewing potions and making other preparations for the next school year. Since he was being paid to do this and wasn't doing any actual healing or practice, this wouldn't count towards his hours. He would instead be paid a reasonable amount for part time work, to be paid directly to him every month. It would be larger, she explained, but for the room and board.

In the afternoons and on the weekends he would be working at St. Mungo's. It was a good idea, she explained, whatever field you chose to work in to be in different environments. So he would be thrown in with the second year trainees, who usually held class in the mornings and practical work at St. Mungo's in the afternoons. He would get experience in each department of the hospital, expanding his knowledge there. Every hour he worked there would be logged and included in his total. On average it was five hours a day, though there would be opportunities to stay longer depending on how busy they were. It was a guaranteed two hundred hours over the summer, and he could also pick up time on the weekends.

In other words, if he worked like a dog he could get a full term of hours in. The opportunity was his to be ahead in his hours. If he managed to work hard all summer he would be able to easily finish the hours required to qualify as a healer by the end of his sixth year. All he would need then were his NEWTs, and to pass the practical exam and Healing written exam.

If he made it to his NEWTs, that was. He wasn't a fool - he saw the writing on the wall. Voldemort was back, and once Harry was of age he might have experienced enough trauma to drop out and go looking for him. If the people he loved in his life kept dying, there would be no stopping him. Draco comforted himself with the knowledge that Harry couldn't do anything rash until next July at least.

"Now I don't mind you going out," Madame Pomfrey told him. "You can use my Floo, or we both know you have another means of transportation." Draco grinned, knowing she meant his animagus form. "Technically as you're working for room and board you have no curfew. But these are dangerous times, Mister Malfoy, and I would appreciate it if you'd let me know when you're going to be out late."

"Yes ma'am."

It was strange, settling in while the castle was empty. Draco moved his trunk down to the set of rooms Madame Pomfrey had for him. They would share a sitting room and a small kitchen, but Draco had his own bedroom and bathroom. Madame Pomfrey also had a little library of her own, and it was crammed with medical texts and information that she told him he could help himself to.

"I didn't realize you had so much room," Draco said. Every room was quite large and furnished very well.

"Traditionally the matron of the hospital wing lives at Hogwarts year round. They make accommodations for any family members as well."

"Your kids would grow up at Hogwarts then?"

"Yes, had I had any."

"And you never...?"

"My husband died when I was quite young," Madame Pomfrey said briskly. "I never remarried."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Yes well, it was a long time ago."

The entire living area consisted of the library, Madame Pomfrey's room, Draco's room, and two spare rooms. She had an office in the hospital wing proper, so the other rooms were done up as guest suites. Her room as well as Draco's had separate attached baths, and there was a general loo for guests across the hall from Draco. Madame Pomfrey's room was off to one side of the living area, and Draco's was down a hall with the other bedrooms. Since they weren't often used she told Draco he could amend one to his own office for studying if he wished. She helped him transfigure the furniture, and called in the house elf, Jazbay, and introduced them. While he was there he could call on the elf and she would assist with whatever he needed.

There was a door as well off of the living area that led to a cozy, well lit potions workroom. It did double duty, Madame Pomfrey explained; this is where she brewed her personal potions, as well as the school potions. There was a log for all school potions made so they could track the ingredients used, but if he wanted to brew his own he was welcome to so long as he got the ingredients on his own gold and time.

She told him to call her Poppy out of school hours, since they would be living together. She would call him Draco. He had never felt more grown up.

He started at St. Mungo's right away. He was put into a group with nine other trainees and given tasks daily. He settled into a routine fairly quickly, simply because he worked so much.

Every day at six am he woke up, went for a run, and made breakfast for himself and Poppy. By seven he was brewing potions for the school year - blood replenishing potions, calming draughts, muscle relaxants, sleeping draughts, dreamless sleeping potions, Pepper Up potions, and other such staples. She taught him how to brew new potions, such as contraceptives and premenstrual potions. She also taught him more about potions theory than he had learned from Snape in the past five years, and he was becoming a more confident potions brewer. They stopped at noon, and usually they ate lunch together.

At one in the afternoon Draco Floo'd to St. Mungo's Monday to Friday. He worked in a weekly rotation, and by the end of his summer worked in each ward twice. He was usually able to leave by six, but generally stayed until nine, because St. Mungo's could always use the help and that's when Harry was able to reasonably go to bed at the Dursley's and have no one make him do chores until morning. He would transform into his falcon, and Harry would do the same. They met in the middle, usually in the woods due to their animagus forms, and walked and talked. Sometimes Harry got away early and met him in London.

At the end of June they got an all hands on deck call - a large scale catastrophe, even trainees on duty were required to show up. Anyone except essential staff left St. Mungo's to help, and they called in off duty healers. A bridge had collapsed in London, they said. Clear Death Eater activity, large scale chaos. They had to have healers on site because they weren't sure that anything magical hadn't been done, and under no circumstances were magical persons to be taken to a muggle hospital.

"Worry about memory charms later," their trainer barked, and held out a portkey for the trainees.

It was large scale chaos, complete madness. Bodies everywhere, injured people littering the streets and the river. Draco hit the ground running, ready for this type of work. One of the healers in his group threw up on his own shoes, and a few just stood there, unsure of what to do. Draco called out to them before the trainer even had a chance.

"Move! If you can't do this, then get out of the way!" A few people in the group started moving and healing, and a few others stood paralyzed still. Draco had more important things to do, so he left them behind and started doing what he could.

A broken leg healed. A broken nose healed. Draco wished he had a go bag, something with potions ready to use. He made a mental note to put one together, then pushed it out of his mind. He performed more diagnostics on more confused muggles than he ever had in his life. He stabilized patients, told them they'd be all right, moved them to the "not dying" group he'd started and moved on.

He held a woman as she died. He wanted to scream, but buried it deep down. She was the first person he'd personally witnessed die, and she wasn't the last that day.

By the time the emergency was called off Draco was dirty, covered in blood, and tired. He had worked thirty-six straight hours and portkeyed back to St. Mungo's to check on the rest of the patients.

"Go home, Malfoy," the training Healer, O'Reilly, ordered. He was a short man that vaguely resembled a bulldog.

"No, sir," Draco said politely, washing his hands.

"I won't sign your hours if you stay," O'Reilly threatened.

"I don't much care, sir," Draco said flatly, waving his wand over himself to remove the dirt and grim from his skin and hair.

O'Reilly blocked the door. "You can't go out there like this."

"I'm clean. I can wash again."

"Not that. Look at yourself, man!" He pointed to the mirror over the sink that Draco hadn't even registered in his state. His eyes were wild, he had dark circles underneath of them, and his skin was pale. He looked sick. He looked shocked. "It's no good. I understand, you want to keep going. But you can't do it here, I can't let you. Go home. You're on strict orders not to come in until at least Friday afternoon."

Draco walked out of St. Mungo's and thought about Flooing to Poppy for tea and then going straight to bed. But he couldn't yet, couldn't face her while it was so raw. He felt gutted, could still smell the blood from the people on the bridge. So he transformed into his falcon and flew, aimlessly at first, and then he knew where he was going.

Harry was in the backyard pulling weeds when the pure white falcon showed up on the fence. He knew it could only be an emergency for Draco to show up at the Dursley's in the middle of the day, and he hadn't seen Draco in a while. He immediately checked to see if anyone was looking then transformed into his own bird form, taking flight and following Draco. They went to the nearest woods, changed back, and Harry immediately knew something was terribly wrong. He went to Draco arms outstretched, and he collapsed into them in a heap. In this safe space they were alone and Draco unburdened himself, sobbing into Harry.

"Let it out," Harry said, "it's okay. I'm here. You're okay."

Between sobs Harry got the full story. The bridge, the injuries. The bodies. The blood. Being sent home. He was dimly aware that home to Draco must have meant Harry, and he held onto him through the horrific retelling.

"I c-can do this still," Draco said. "It felt good to help. I j-just... I just..."

"It's okay," Harry said soothingly, brushing a hand through his hair. "I know you can do it. The first ones a shock, yeah?"

"Y-yeah." Draco pulled back to face Harry and drew in a shuddering breath.

Harry leaned in and rested his forehead on Draco's. "It'll be okay, Draco. We're going to be fine. We'll find something for you to clear your mind after the bad days, I promise."

"L-like what?" Draco asked, clinging desperately to Harry.

"Like... I dunno, we'll go see another musical. Or we'll apartment hunt. Or we'll go dancing."

"You hate dancing," Draco pointed out, wiping tears from his cheeks.

"But I love you," Harry pointed out. "We'll keep trying new things until we find The Thing that'll make it better, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now when's the last time you slept?"

"Um. What day is it?"

"Wednesday."

"I woke up at seven am on Monday morning."

"And you last ate?"

"Lunch on Monday."

"Okay. Well, transform and follow me." They turned into falcons again and Harry led the way to the outskirts of London.

"When d'you have to be back?" He asked when they'd changed back.

"I sent word to Poppy when we got the code red," he explained, "So whenever I turn up I guess. She told me not to worry about it. Gave me the rest of the week if I wanted it, but I want to be back Friday morning."

"Okay. Let's go."

They ended up at the bank, where Harry withdrew a large sum of money. He'd had some of his gold exchanged and had a secret bank account the Dursley's knew nothing about. He got the statements sent to Mrs. Figg's house.

He led a tired Draco downtown to a charming hotel and got a room for the night. Draco was zoned out, staring at the telephone and the registry book. Harry had his head together with the concierge, and they exchanged money and keys.

"What was that about?" Draco asked when they got in the elevator. Harry pressed the number six.

"She was concerned about you," Harry said, clearly amused. "She didn't want to give me a room because she thought you were drunk or something. I told her you were a nursing student. Muggle Healer."

"Do they look drunk?"

"They look tired. Here, this one." Harry unlocked the door and they walked in.

It was one room, with a desk and a large bed and a bathroom off to the side. There was what Harry explained was a teevee, and one of those telephone thingies. Harry walked straight to the bathroom and turned the shower on hot.

"Get in," he instructed, "you'll feel better."

Draco had to admit that he was right. A cleansing spell was useful certainly, but certainly no replacement for the comfort of hot water and soap. He used the little shampoo that the hotel provided, and stayed in til the water was cold.

When he came out of the bathroom wearing a fluffy white robe, he blinked. The lights were out, except for some candles on the desk, beside table, teevee stand - if there was a flat surface, there was a candle on it.

There were plates of food all over the bed. Draco eyed the chocolate cake, but recognized that the steak and lobster were more likely meant to be eaten first.

"What's all this?" Draco asked, shoulders dropping.

"You're tired, and your hungry. So I brought you food. And a bed. Food in bed, really."

When he'd been properly fed he crawled into bed. He was so damn tired, and while he'd been momentarily revived by his shower the food was making him sleepy again.

"Stay with me," Draco said as he'd climbed under the covers. "You'll stay, won't you?"

"I rather planned on it," Harry said, putting out the candles then stripping to his underpants and crawling in with him.

"We've never been alone in a bed before. There's usually a bunch of snoring boys around us," Draco noted with a yawn.

"Shush, you," Harry said, wrapping his arm around Draco. "Go to sleep."

By the time Draco opened a bleary eye to face the day it was morning. The shades were drawn, but he could see the sunlight trying to get in around the edges. Harry was snoring a little. Draco sat up and looked around the room. Harry had put the debris from their meal outside the door before bed, claiming the staff would take care of it. Since Draco wanted to see if it was true he ventured to the loo, then popped his head outside to look. There were no plates - instead, a Muggle newspaper.

Fascinated, Draco took the paper inside with him. He considered getting breakfast, but he didn't really know how. He didn't want to leave the room, and he wasn't sure how Harry had gotten the supper. So he flipped through the paper.

On the second page there was a picture of the collapsed bridge. It was still fresh news, though the reporter had nothing really to say. There were facts, distorted by the memory charms he'd helped place after the fact. Number of people injured. Number of people killed. Nothing to report on what had happened, though a committee was being formed to look into it. Draco didn't feel like reading the paper anymore after that, and he set it on the bedside table, choosing instead to study Harry in his sleep.

He looked so peaceful, Draco decided. Whenever he was awake he looked concerned about something, which made sense. There was always something to be concerned about for him. That he'd dropped everything and came to Draco when he'd really needed him was something that gave Draco pause. It was easy to say you loved someone, but he kept showing it. And all of a sudden, Draco didn't want to wait for Harry to wake up any more. He slid under the covers and snuggled up to Harry.

"Hmmm?" Harry said, half asleep.

Draco snuggled up harder, wriggling against Harry. He was facing away so he didn't see Harry's eyes open, but he felt the grip on his hip tighten, and the rock of Harry's body against his. Draco turned, having gotten the reaction he'd wanted, and captured Harry's lips for a sleepy kiss. He reached his hand down to the elastic of Harry's boxer briefs and slipped underneath, grabbing hold.

Harry made an animal noise then that made Draco wonder if his animagus shouldn't have been some feral jungle cat. Encouraged by the response, Draco disappeared under the covers to pull down Harry's shorts and envelope him in his mouth.

"You don't h-have to - oh! - are you sure -?" Draco heard from above the covers. He lifted his head and threw the covers back, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to," he said. "Don't you want me to?"

Harry bit his lip, shaking his head yes in response. Draco continued his attention to Harry, and within a few moments had Harry writhing.

"Y-you - I - I'm gonna -"

At Harry's warning Draco did not pull back, but doubled down. He sucked with extra enthusiasm, and was rewarded with bucking hips and a shuddering moan, and a hot spurt of cum in his mouth. He took it all, swallowing.

When he returned to Harry's level he found his boyfriend struggling to compose himself.

"How'd you - where'd you learn that?"

"Er, I dunno. I just... did it. I read some things, and I tried them."

"You learned that from a book? Merlin, I need to read more." Draco laughed at that, and rolled on top of Harry. "D'you want that? I mean, can I try that for you?"

"You don't have to just because I did," Draco said, suddenly self conscious. "I want you to go at your pace. I don't want to push."

"I want to," Harry said, eyes heavy lidded with his desire. "I just - I've never - "

"I haven't either," Draco said reassuringly, "Not til just now. It'll be fine." Harry flipped them, ending up on top of Draco, who felt his own cock twitch in anticipation. They kissed for a while, and Draco recognized Harry was building his own confidence up before trying something new with him. He didn't mind, really - it was one of his favourite things to do, kissing Harry.

When he moved down and gave Draco's naked cock a testing lick. Draco groaned. Encouraged by this, Harry licked at the head and down the shaft before popping the member in his mouth. He worked up and down, methodically, mesmerizingly. He was doing something with his tongue that was making Draco's eyes roll back in his head and before long he was gripping bedsheets and thrusting with no control whatsoever. Harry didn't stop, and Draco's whole world exploded.

In the aftermath, when he could move again, he patted the top of his head.

"Er - what are you doing?"

"Checking to see if it's still there," he replied cheekily.

They lay together, tangled limbs and whispered words, for as long as they could. Then Harry checked the time and groaned, this time with no pleasure attached.

"We should go," he said. "I've been out for a full day now, and the Dursley's might be packing my stuff as we speak."

They got dressed, lingering, neither wanting to go but knowing they had to. They checked out and walked, looking for a secluded place to transform into their animal bodies, holding hands. In the muggle world no one knew who they were - they were just two boys, normal, average boyfriends. It was nice, and reinforced Draco's belief that they should live in the muggle world one day. When they found the right spot they held onto each other for a long goodbye, and made plans for when they'd see each other next.

Draco went home since he knew Poppy would want to fuss over him for a bit. She fed him something when he admitted he hadn't had any breakfast, and was very pleased to hear that Harry had taken care of him after he'd been sent home by the trainer on duty.

Not used to having the day off, Draco perused the library and found a few topics of interest for the sixth year thesis he knew he'd be writing. Since he also knew from Fred and George that sixth year was where they learned silent casting he cajoled Poppy into telling him about the theory and teaching him how. It wasn't easy, but by the end of the day he could do some simple spells he'd been doing since year one silently. She was a great teacher, and she flushed pink with pleasure when he told her as much.

The next day they were making their usual positions when a letter came. It was for Poppy, and she opened it immediately when she saw St. Mungo's seal on it. She read the letter quickly, then handed it to Draco.

 _Madame Poppy Pomfrey,_

 _As you know I have worked alongside your trainee, Draco Malfoy, since the beginning of the summer. It is rare for a student to show such an understanding of Healing magic at his age, and it is very clear that he is beyond his years in his capability._

 _During the recent crisis of the bridge collapse, Draco showed no hesitation in throwing himself in to help people, magic and Muggle alike. He led others into duty, and returned to St. Mungo's after until he was sent home._

 _It would be understandable if you were training him to take over for you in your future retirement, however I do believe it is important to know that once he passes his NEWTS and qualifying examinations, Draco would have a letter of recommendation from every senior staff member here at the hospital, and we fully intend on offering him a position with us._

 _With current events being how they are, we thought it might be beneficial to meet with the headmaster about an accelerated schedule for his education. Please discuss his with Draco and advise if we might have a meeting with the headmaster at your earliest convenience._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Seamus O'Reilly_

 _Senior Trainee_

 _Unit Leader - Mediwizard Combat Department_

 _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies_

Draco looked at the paper, stunned. "Er - Madame Pomfrey, is it even possible to accelerate at Hogwarts?"

"It is," Madame Pomfrey confirmed, "Though it is rarely done, and only in very particular circumstances."

"And what happens exactly?"

"Well, you would be evaluated in all of your chosen subjects for the sixth year."

"Charms, Potions, DADA, and Transfiguration, Herbology," he said automatically. Everything required at the NEWT level to be a Healer.

"Right. An independent examiner would give you a practical, and an examination. The same people who run the exams every year for the OWLs and NEWTs, actually. They test you on sixth year spells and theory and see what you're capable of. If they believe you could move to your seventh year in any subjects, and Professor Dumbledore agrees, you would be moved to seventh year classes."

"And if I'm not ready?"

"It won't effect you at all, dear. But between you and I, I know O'Reilly and he would not suggest this unless he was one hundred per cent certain you could do this."

This was a vote of confidence certainly, but a questioned burned at him. "Do you think I can do it?" he asked his mentor.

"I think you're an amazingly talented young man, Draco. There isn't a thing you can't do. And if you want to try, we'll set up a meeting."

They sent the letter to Dumbledore requesting a meeting, with a copy of the letter O'Reilly had sent to Poppy so that he would be aware of their reason for meeting. When they received a time and date for their meeting they owled O'Reilly. He would be arriving via Floo to the Hospital Wing the following Saturday morning.

In the meantime Draco worked twice as hard when he was at home to study. The new book lists weren't out yet, but there were copies of last years in Poppy's library. She made sure she had a copy of every book required by students in order to figure out what they had done to themselves if they couldn't or wouldn't tell her. It was surprisingly effective, and he'd seen it work.

Madame Pomfrey quizzed him more than ever while brewing potions now about theory and potion composition, and he noticed that she was setting more complicated potions for him to brew. "Any idiot can follow instructions in a recipe," she told him, "But the difference in understanding potions is knowing why certain reactions happen, and how ingredients work together." She also flat out refused to let him cast out loud in her presence in order to get used to silent casting. She even had him doing a few wandless spells now too - though these were mostly easy charms, as this magic was much more difficult. Wandless magic was a seventh year learning curve, and Draco appreciated that she was trying to give him an edge.

By Saturday he had worked twenty five hours in the Hospital Wing and forty hours at St. Mungo's. His five hours a day with Poppy were now doubling as potions and charms lessons. He read up on Transfiguration and DADA theory on his lunch hours and St. Mungo's breaks, and well into the night. He was exhausted, but at the same time determined. He met O'Reilly politely when he Floo'd in, and the three made their way to Dumbledore's office while making small talk.

Dumbledore looked the same as he always did, except for a blackened hand. Draco struggled not to stare at it, though he had a million questions. That wasn't what they were there to talk about though, he reminded himself.

"Mr. O'Reilly, well met," Dumbledore greeted, and they got down to business. Draco's schooling, past marks, and trouble areas were discussed, as well as urgent work and preparation for examination. His home life was briefly touched on by Poppy, who suggested it might be good for Draco to be independent and able to work as soon as possible. O'Reilly looked curiously at Draco at this news, but didn't ask about it. In the end, it wasn't his schoolwork at all that gave Dumbledore an issue with what they wanted.

"I am certain that Draco is a bright boy who could reasonably progress to the seventh year, if the examiners allow," he stated. Draco's heart rose at this, only to be quashed back down. "The concern I have is with moving grades and dormitories. You don't know that class of students well, if I am not mistaken."

There was nothing more for Poppy or O'Reilly to argue. This one was on Draco.

"Sir, I don't believe I would become best friends with anyone in a new year," he admitted, "And if I were removed from my dorm it would be awkward for me. I would prefer to take seventh year classes, but remain in my current dormitory. I appreciate your concern, but I'm not looking to make any friends by moving. I will still be spending my free time in the hospital wing and also studying for my NEWTs. If I fit in well with my classmates it would be good, but if I don't then it won't really effect me at all, since I'll always have my dorm mates." Dumbledore peered down at him through his half moon spectacles, so Draco added, "And as you are aware, my dorm mates make it their mission to get into trouble. They might benefit from having a Healer in training staying with them still."

Poppy and Dumbledore both laughed at this, and Dumbledore threw his hands up in defeat. "Very well, Mister Malfoy. I will make the arrangements for the testers, and the rest is up to you."

Draco felt giddy when they went back to the hospital wing. He was following O'Reilly through the Floo, though he dashed into his room to pack a bag first. O'Reilly had mentioned on their way back that he should volunteer for on-call during the weekends. He would sleep at St. Mungo's and help with emergency cases or pitch in if they were understaffed, but could study or sleep in the downtime. The benefit to this was that he would get his hours signed for the entire time he was there, increasing his average hours on the weekend from twenty to forty-eight. If he did it every weekend with his other weekly hours he would manage to do over seven hundred in the summer, and his school hours wouldn't be so urgent.

He and Poppy had a private drink on Monday night to celebrate Dumbledore's approval. He'd received the letter stating that the four instructors would be visiting the Monday and Tuesday before term started to test. He would write his test and take his practical for Potions and Transfiguration one day, and Charms and DADA the next. They had even called in the Herbology tester to come in Tuesday evening to get the job completely done. After their one drink Poppy dusted off an old Transfiguration textbook and made him study it, knowing the theory would be the hardest for him, even with his animagus ability.

By the end of the summer Draco was getting more nervous with each day that passed. He made Poppy quiz him on absolutely everything, and was an absolute nutter. His time with Harry that summer was reduced to studying and stolen kisses, and he had told no one else he was attempting to jump a year at Hogwarts. It was too high stakes - if he failed, he would be devastated.

By the time the examiners arrived on Sunday night, Draco was ready to throw up.

"You're doing yourself no favours by not eating, Draco," Poppy said with a tsk, pushing a mug of tea in front of him. He automatically moved it out of the way of his Transfiguration book.

"I eat," he protested.

"What did you last eat and when?"

"I had a sandwich a few hours ago."

"Liar."

"Spy."

In the end they made a shepherds pie together. Poppy said it would help to do something not school related for a while, and he had to admit he felt better after they ate.

The next morning Draco walked to the Great Hall. There was one desk for writing, and the testers were waiting for him.

"Hello," he said politely as he took his seat. They smiled and nodded at him, and he felt a bit more confident.

Two days later he woke up in a blind panic. He'd dreamt he'd failed everything, and they were making him go back to the first year. "I'm going to fail," he said breathlessly to Madame Pomfrey, "I know it."

"You are not," Poppy assured him, bustling around and making tea. "You're going to have tea and then you're going to get your marks. But first you're going to go to the Floo and meet our guest."

"Who's coming?"

"Go see."

Draco went outside the living quarters to the Hospital Wing just in time to see a messy haired boy step out of the fire. He'd hardly finished brushing off before Draco attacked him.

"How are you here?" Draco asked his boyfriend, "You're never allowed to do anything!"

"Madame Pomfrey wrote me," he said, kissing him hello. "She thought you might like some support."

"She was right. Oh, Poppy. She always seems to know exactly what I need." He waved his wand and managed to produce a pot of poppies, which he took in to the kitchen to present her with.

He made his way to the Great Hall with the two of them, and found Dumbledore speaking with the testers. He swallowed hard and left Poppy and Harry at the entrance to hear his results.

"You have excellent understanding of Potions and Charms," one of the testers said.

"Your Herbology written exam was almost perfect," one inputted.

"You Defence is easily seventh year," a third tester said, which didn't surprise Draco. He had been the least worried about DADA thanks to Harry's tutelage and training him for the Triwizard Tournament.

"Your Transfiguration now..." Draco looked at the fourth tester, feeling the fear the strongest here. "It's not perfect, but you have the understanding you'd need for an E in this course."

"An E?" Draco asked. Not perfect, and he got an E on his sixth year exams?

"Yes. Oh, did we not mention? You got an O in everything else!"

Draco looked at Dumbledore. "I did it?"

"You did it," he confirmed. "Congratulations, Mister Malfoy. You are now a NEWT student." And with that, Dumbledore personally handed him his Hogwarts letter with his results, and the seventh year booklist.

Draco whooped and thanked everyone, then ran to the door. "Three O's and an E!" he crowed, and waved his results. Poppy kissed him on the cheek, and Harry was grinning from ear to ear.

"I knew you could do it," he said. "Oh, Hermione's going to be so jealous!"

"Oh Merlin, let's not think about that now," Draco said. "I have to go into Diagon Alley, get my books, everything else. I've been waiting for this to go into London."

"Well, you can officially have the week off from me," Poppy said. "Between us we've brewed enough potions to keep us stocked into next year. You go on, you earned this."

Harry and Draco flood to Gringotts just as it opened, which they realized was lucky for them after they saw the line form behind them. Draco drained his bank account of what he'd need for the day's shopping and some gold for the school year, taking a bit extra so he was sure not to need to come back, and they were off to Flourish and Blotts. They made their rounds along Diagon Alley for parchment and quills, potions ingredients, books, robes, and the Quidditch shop just for fun.

Harry mentioned that he might want to try out for Gryffindor this year, maybe buy his own broom, but Draco shook his head. "I've got over a thousand hours to do in the hospital wing, and NEWTs," he reminded Harry. "I doubt I'll have the time for sports."

"Overachiever," Harry said playfully, and Draco grinned.

They got lunch at the Leaky before using the Floo. Draco was going to the hospital wing to drop his stuff off, then to work. Harry was Flooing back to the Burrow. They wouldn't see each other before he got to Hogwarts on the train, but they couldn't be too openly affectionate due to their low profile. Harry leaned in to Draco and murmured in his ear, "One day we won't have to hide," and Draco nodded.

"One day," he agreed sadly, and they parted ways.


	7. Chapter 7

Free from working during the day for the rest of the week, and not needing to take the train, Draco worked as much as possible from Wednesday afternoon to Sunday afternoon, clocking out at noon on Sunday with a hundred hours. By his calculation, and confirmed by Madame Pomfrey, he'd managed to clock just over two thousand hours between the last year, his thesis, and his summer working and training at St. Mungo's.

He broke the news to Hermione at dinner that he would be jumping to the seventh year, and Hermione's incredulous, "WHAT?" could be heard through the Great Hall.

"Hermione, settle down," Harry snapped, irritable from his bloody nose.

"How is it that you get everything?" Hermione demanded from Draco, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Independent studies, Healer trainee programs, a year jump. I know I get better grades than you! I don't understand it!"

"Maybe it's because he asks for it," Harry said, so clearly fed up with Hermione's attitude towards Draco's hard work. "He didn't just memorize the textbook and hope everyone noticed, he asked Madame Pomfrey for extra Healing training. And they worked together to put a trainee program together during his OWL year, and he worked his arse off this summer trying to get hours, and make money, and do the entire sixth year in a few weeks. Did you ask anyone for anything extra last year? Did you find a career path that you enjoyed so much you built your life around it?"

Hermione turned bright red under Harry's admonishments. "No," she said in a small voice.

"You can't keep putting people down for doing well, Hermione," Harry said, frustrated still but calming down now. He hadn't meant to embarrass her quite so much. "Everyone knows you're the brightest witch of your age, but Draco did the work for all of this and you didn't. You can't get mad at him for it."

"Your right," Hermione said, close to tears. "I'm sorry, Draco." She couldn't quite meet his eyes, but Draco accepted it anyway.

"It's alright," he said quietly.

There was a brief awkward silence at the table before Ron threw out a cheery, "Congratulations, mate!" and Seamus and Dean started asking for St. Mungo's stories, and everything returned to relatively normal.

After the first day of term Draco took his class schedule to Poppy - now Madame Pomfrey again for the school year - to work out his Healing schedule. With only four classes Draco figured he was lucky this year. They were all on Monday and Tuesday, so he was able to work consistently in the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey confessed that she'd had a hand in it, since it wouldn't matter to the other seventh years and it would make a difference for Draco. He had Transfiguration first thing Monday morning, and DADA after lunch. On Tuesdays he started with Charms and Herbology and had Potions in the afternoons.

On days that he did not have classes ge would work from one to six in the hospital wing, the busiest hours, and after Quidditch games. He could work all weekend long if he wanted to, but he had to keep up with his course work. Draco figured he could commit five hours each day there, too, and that would take him to nine hundred for the school year. With the holidays he was well over the required hours and could sit his tests in June, after he'd taken his NEWTs. He could sit the Healer exams any time after and be provisionally passed pending his results.

He planned on using his mornings to study and practice his wandwork, and had set himself a training schedule. NEWTs covered everything from year one to the seventh year, and he had nine months in school. Having just taken his OWLs he figured he had a good handle on his first two years from all the studying he did, and it wasn't until the third year that things got difficult. He planned to devote September to first year, October to second year, and so on. March would be a review of everything he'd learned in seventh year, and then he'd do two weeks of revision for each year, with the exception of first and second, which he would knock out in a week for both. In June he'd cram on one subject a day, all years, rotating. His ultimate goal was an O in all of his NEWTs, even Transfiguration.

He ate dinner quickly the first day, needing to rush to the Herbology teacher to discuss his thesis. Professor Sprout ended up loving his idea, the root of ancient herbs and cures and their place in modern Healing, and gave him several ideas on places to start. He was going to meet with her once a month to show her what he had, and get any guidance he needed.

By the time he fell into bed that evening he was exhausted. After coming back from his meeting with Professor Sprout he had stayed up to review his Transfiguration and Defence notes from that day, making a note of anything he hadn't fully understood so that he could study it and go to the Professors with any questions he had. He found that the seventh year certainly had more interesting magic, but due to the theory being quite difficult in some subjects he foresaw a lot of essay assigning that year. He already had two from McGonnagall, who had never in his Hogwarts career gave more than one assignment in a class. Snape had been a bit less keen to assign work, only one essay there, but his class had been brutal.

He spent the rest of his evening outlining his Transfiguration essays, and researching spells and, more importantly, counter spells and wards, then crawling into bed.

"Rough day?" Harry asked him. Everyone else was asleep.

"Just long," he replied with a yawn. "C'mere. Tell me about yours."

Harry crawled into bed with him and they traded stories about their day. Draco was irritated by Snape's behaviour and Harry's undeserved detention, but Harry shrugged it off. It wasn't fair, but what had he expected? Draco was halfway through telling Harry about the plants he might write about in his thesis when Harry started snoring. Draco chuckled to himself turned out the light.

They woke before everyone else, as they usually did. They woke Ron up and the three went for their daily run. It had been a habit that Draco was glad the other two hadn't dropped. He had kept it up over the summer, and he had truly enjoyed the solitude of his run on the grounds and around the lake, but he had missed his friends badly.

Draco found Tuesday's to be much more pleasant than Monday's for the sheer cheerfulness of Professor Flitwick, and Slughorn was the Potions instructor Draco had always wanted. It was everything he liked about brewing with Poppy, but this was all he did. He was able to get into theory in a way that Draco had never even saw coming. They would be having a conversation and then, suddenly, he realized he had been taught three new things about Potions theory. The essays for his class were going to be easy, he decided.

Over the rest of his week he worked in the Hospital Wing during the afternoons, so he did his essay work after his run and his classmates had gone off to their classes. The dorm was empty then, and he found it much easier to focus than when he tried to do his homework with everyone else, because Ron was such a moaner about it. He managed to finish one Transfiguration essay, and a Potions assignment. His other Transfiguration essay was fully outlined, and he had practiced all his wandwork, all in one day. By the end of the week everything was done and practiced, and he had seen the appropriate professors for clarification on a few points. By the weekend he was reading ahead so that he wouldn't need to clarify anything the following week, and working on his thesis. He was going to present Professor Sprout with a fully formed outline by the end of the month for her review.

September rolled by and slipped into October. Harry kept going to Dumbledore's private lessons, and Draco found them fascinating to hear about. He laughed about the Slug Club, until he heard about the Christmas Party.

"And who are you taking then?" Draco asked, trying to sound casual.

"Er - you know I'd love to go with you ideally," Harry said.

"Mhmmm."

"But we agreed to keep a low profile here."

"We did."

"And I can't go alone! These girls are starting to get... vicious!"

"Mhmmm. So, who are you taking? Romilda?"

"No!" Harry said in a panic, looking around to see if she had been lurking and heard.

"Cho?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Parvati?"

"Why would I - oh, you utter arse! You don't care, you're taking the piss!"

Draco, caught out now, didn't bother trying to hide his laughter. "I'm not jealous," he said, "I've been through enough of those stuffy parties in my life. My parents..." He faltered there. His father was still in Azkaban, and his mother hadn't tried to contact him since the howler last June. He tried not to think about them generally. "Well, I don't miss it," he said firmly.

They speculated on Blaise as a Death Eater then, because it was Harry's obsession. Draco was the most patient with the idea out of everyone, because he understood the family pressures and how far they could push someone more than anyone. But he tired of the subject, because he didn't want to think about Blaise. He wanted to think about Harry, and the way he kissed, and -

"Hey!" Harry protested. "Pay attention."

"Can't," Draco said, stealing a kiss. "You're too fanciable."

Between everything, the school year passed quite quickly. By December Draco was loathe to say goodbye to Harry and his friends for the holidays, but he did appreciate the solitude for working. His professors hadn't assigned too much over the break, just one essay from McGonnagall, and he managed to get that done very quickly. He brewed potions for Poppy during the slow Christmas break, and he treated everyone who had needed to visit the Hospital Wing over break. Poppy beamed with pride over it.

"He doesn't even need me," he heard her bragging to Slughorn over Christmas dinner in the Great Hall, "He just treats everyone, no problem. Brews all my potions for me too."

"Does he now?" Slughorn asked, sounding impressed.

"It's no big deal," Draco said, shying away from the attention. "They're easy potions."

"He's never messed one up," Madame Pomfrey bragged, "Not one wrong diagnoses." She was into the Christmas wine, and could not be stopped.

Hideously embarrassed, Draco finished his Christmas meal and went on to work at his thesis, which was coming together quite nicely.

Along with a Herbology bent to it, it had a lot to do about magical properties and what was used in potions making, which he found that between Poppy and Professor Slughorn he had no problem with.

The holidays rolled on, and so did the schoolwork. He understood why they were called Nasty Exhausting Wizarding Tests now - he had thought his fifth year was bad, but this was brutal.

He was reciting a complicated Transfiguration theory to himself while he made beds when Blaise Zabini was carried into the hospital wing, bleeding heavily. He yelled, "Poppy!" and pointed to a bed for Snape to lay the boy in. Madame Pomfrey came running in and started barking orders, but there was no need. He was already making moves to do what she needed him to, and returned with fresh towels, blood replenishing potions, pain potions, and bandages.

"What happened?" Poppy asked briskly.

"Potter happened," Snape sneered, and Draco looked sharply at the Professor.

"We don't have time for blame," Draco snapped, "That's not what we're here for. Tell us what happened or leave."

"Sectumsempra," Snape said, then left.

"What is that?" Draco asked Poppy as he retreated, checking Blaise's vitals.

"A dark spell," she said solemnly, "One meant to kill. I've seen it before. It's ripped open his skin and is trying to kill him by leeching all his blood." She was waving her wand furiously now.

"How to we reverse it?" Draco asked, pouring a blood replenishing potion down Blaise's throat.

"We use everything we have. Replenishments, Healing spells. It effects every wizard differently, so we try everything until it works."

Draco ran through every Healing spell he knew, and knew Poppy was doing the same. Nothing seemed to be working. He kept feeding Blaise blood replenishing potions, and ran out of the room, Poppy calling after him the whole way. He went at top speed to the greenhouses, rifling through the plants until he found what he needed, and ran back.

"Where did you go?" she snapped, and wiped her brow.

"Greenhouses," he said breathlessly, throwing a handful of flowers into his mortar and pestle. "Sprout's let me have a space for my thesis project. Had an idea." He ground furiously knowing his time was short, and waved his hand at the kettle. It started boiling immediately, and he summoned it to him, one hand working the plants still. He summoned a glass, and set the flowers to brew, then turned back to Blaise and gave him another potion.

"What are you giving him?" Poppy asked, looking unsure.

"Bloodroot. At worst nothing will happen, at best it'll cleanse the blood. See how it's looking? It's purging the blood because it's bad, unclean blood." He couldn't wait for the tea to cool, and had Blaise sip it as fast as he could.

The difference was immediate. The blood was cleaner, and started pumping out slower through the gashes. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew the work wasn't over.

He stayed all night with Poppy and Blaise, though once he was stable it became easier. He went to the greenhouse and gathered the rest of his bloodroots, preparing them for brewing. He fed Blaise the tea all night, and changes his bandages. Draco could slowly see the progress, and sent Poppy to bed. She was tired, and he needed to study anyway. He didn't have class the next day, but she had to be up to run the place. She patted him on the head and retired, knowing he'd do well.

Harry showed up during the night, and Draco turned him away at the door.

"I didn't mean to," he said morosely. "I didn't know what it did."

"It damn near killed him," Draco said, struggling to keep from shouting. "You used a spell you saw written in a book, and had you any more ill will behind it he'd be dead right now."

"I didn't mean to, I did think -"

"No, you didn't," Draco agreed, cutting him off. "But your actions have consequences, and not just for Blaise. I almost lost another patient." He struggled again, this time to keep from crying. His voice was rough. "You did that. You. And what if you'd killed him? What do you think would have happened to you?"

They continued on, a harsh whispered chastisement on Draco's part, heavy apologies from Harry.

"Just... go, Harry. I've been up all night with him, and I'll be working all night now thanks to you."

Harry trudged off, defeated. Draco sat in his chair, steaming. He'd been writing down his first hand account of what had happened in his medical diary, complete with pictures of both Blaise and the Bloodroot.

He finished the whole first draft of his thesis in the small hours of the night, and made notes to himself for additions in the margins. He made two copies, one for Sprout and one for Slughorn, and gave it to each of them for review and notes before having a shower and collapsing in bed. He dreamt of blood, and the horrible rattling noise that Blaise had made as he gasped for breath.

When he woke everyone was gone, including Harry. Draco dressed quickly and headed down to the Hospital Wing, looking to check on Blaise. He found Poppy hovering over him and, to his surprise, Dumbledore as well.

"Hello Sir," he greeted cordially. "Madame Pomfrey, would you like me to take over while you speak with the Headmaster?"

"He's not here for me," she said, and Draco turned to face Professor Dumbledore.

"How can I help you sir?" he asked politely, hoping there wasn't an issue with his schoolwork he hadn't been aware of.

"It's more about how you've helped me," Dumbledore said. "Madame Pomfrey, may we borrow your office?"

She waved them away, and they stepped inside.

"You've done Blaise, me, and Hogwarts a great service by your actions last night," Professor Dumbledore said gravely. "Without you, Madame Pomfrey was reasonably sure Mr. Zabini may have died or have been otherwise impaired. Thanks to you he is expected to make a full recovery."

"Er - I was just doing my job," he said modestly.

"And your actions saved a life. You are so young, Mister Malfoy. I know you students don't like to hear that, but when you live to my age you see it is so true. You've taken on a lot, and you are excelling in your classes. You've already received job offers outside of Hogwarts, and your future looks bright."

"Thank you sir," Draco said, not sure what else to say.

"It is my great honour to inform you that you are to receive an award for Special Services to the School for you quick thinking, and saving the life of a fellow student."

"Oh. Um, thank you. There won't be a ceremony or anything will there?"

"No," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "Not if you don't want there to be. But you will receive a certificate, as well as your name on the trophy in the trophy room with past recipients. I will personally write you a letter for your records explaining the situation surrounding your award which you can use in future job interviews."

"Thank you, Sir," Draco said warmly. This would be much more useful to him than his name on a trophy.

"I dare say I have taken enough of your time this afternoon. I'm sure you'd like to be checking on your patient."

They shook hands, and Draco returned to work.

"And what was that about?" Madame Pomfrey asked, and almost crushed him with her hug when he told her.

In the beginning of June, when Draco was revising his sixth year magic in preparation for his NEWTs, Harry burst in with his bottle of Felix Felicis and explained that he was going to get a Horcrux.

Draco and his friends waited nervously for his return, but were quick to action when the Death Eaters infiltrated the castle.

He shot hexes and curses at everything in a black cloak, shielding his friends and waving his wand with a fury. His silent casting and even wandless magic had helped immensely, and by the time it was over there were far fewer on the ground than there might have been, thanks to him. He remembered thinking, this is my home! How dare they sully it? His rage had overcome his reason in battle, and he helped the students and professors drive them out.

He tended the wounded after the fight. Scrapes and bruises, mostly. The cruciatus on a few students, and some others were simply in shock. The heavier injuries were found on members of the DA and the Professors, who were also the hardest to control.

"Sit down, Professor Slughorn," Draco barked. "I can't Heal you if you keep moving."

"I must see to the students," he protested, moving for the door.

"You can't very well help them if your arm is hanging off!"

Slughorn looked down at the rather large gash, deep into his shoulder. "Oh," he said simply, and sat down. Draco healed him up, gave him some chocolate, and sent him on his way.

It was another long night, and Draco focused on the patients rather than his own grief. He couldn't stop thinking about Dumbledore, like a background to his every thought, and he pushed it down as much as possible to focus on his job. But he kept getting flashes of being eleven, standing in a room in front of a mirror feeling abnormal and having the headmaster tell him there was nothing wrong with him. Encouraging his career. Jumping his grades. Sending him back through the time turner with Hermione to save Sirius. He hadn't had more than a few handfuls of interactions with the headmaster, but every one of them seemed to matter immensely.

Exams had been cancelled, understandably. Draco made arrangements to take his NEWT's at the Ministry after the funeral, and made an appointment to take his Apparition test at the same time. He would also take his Healing written and practical exams to qualify as an official Healer at the end of the month so that he could make preparations. He got everything organized quickly so that he could attend the funeral with Harry and focus on him.

"You're not going to break up with me, are you?" Draco asked Harry bluntly after the funeral. "Because it won't work."

"What? No! Why would I do that?"

"Some stupid hero reason, I suspect," Draco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"No. I... well, I was thinking quite the opposite, really."

"Were you?"

"I just... everything's gone to hell. With Dumbledore gone, and Sirius, and I... I keep losing people I care about. And it makes me want to hold into people even more, you know?"

Draco nodded. He knew the feeling; he'd hardly let Harry out if his sight since the funeral.

"Anyways, you're graduated now, almost. And I'm not coming back to Hogwarts." He'd already told Ron, Draco, and Hermione this earlier, and they'd agreed they'd go with him. "You know we're off to hunt Horcruxes now when I'm of age. And I don't care about keeping us a secret anymore if you don't."

"You're sure?" Draco asked. He hadn't really expected this. He had been ready to go public at any time, but he understood Harry's reservations.

"I am. I'm Harry Potter, they're coming for me and my friends anyway. Having you by my side openly supporting me won't put you in any more danger than you already are."

Draco took Harry's hand. "I'm glad you're seeing it from my side," he said. And for he very first time Harry kissed Draco in front of everyone.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco stayed with Poppy over the summer as a guest this time, not a worker. He had his hours, and he was studying for his NEWTs and Healer exams. He worked feverishly, and came out of his NEWTs feeling confident he'd at least hit an E on all subjects. He'd already received his thesis back with an O from St. Mungo's, which had factored in the thesis, his professors evaluations, and his understanding of Healing for the independent study.

He sat for his Healing exams in early July, which was composed of four parts. His written exam and a practical exam, which he was used to, but then also an oral exam and a field test. The field test consisted of real and fake medical patients in each ward set up to test his knowledge, diagnosing ability, Healing ability, and bedside manner.

In the anxiety ridden time in between taking his tests and leaving to find Horcruxes, Draco prepared as best as he could. He withdrew all of the money from his Gringotts account that had been in there before he'd turned seventeen. He had a trust that had deposited a rather large sum of gold when he turned of age, and his parents wouldn't have been able to touch it if they tried. As the sole male heir, his legal claim to his own inheritances were iron clad. Still, he requested to change vaults just in case, and transferred his trust to a new vault only he had ever had access to.

He also spent some time in Diagon Alley and the muggle world both, shopping. He bought new clothes for the journey, not knowing where it would take them. Jeans mostly, an abundance of socks and underwear, tee shirts and sweaters. A few nice outfits just in case, and a brand new cloak. Hiking boots and rain gear.

His wizarding shopping was more geared towards supplies; potions ingredients, a travel brewing kit, and high quality dragon leather. He took it to Madame Pomfrey and explained what he was doing, and she made him go back for more so she could make one too.

After several designs and a few prototypes, they were finally finished with their final product. It was a satchel, worn over the shoulder and over or under the clothes, that had a belt as well. It was secure, and comfortable. It held emergency potions for field use, stemming from his need on the bridge collapse site. The potion vials were shatter proof, and Draco tested them by hurling them at the castle walls. They looked untouched, so he filled them with blood replenishing potions, calming draughts, revival potions, any other such necessities. He also had compartments for gauze, bandages, balms and creams, scissors, and anything else he might find useful. The whole bag was impervious to water, could stand a blaze, and was tough as nails.

He brewed several potions ahead of time, and stockpiled bandages and supplies. Every time Poppy asked where he was going he would shrug his shoulders. "Wherever Harry needs to be," he said. "And when this is all over I'll come back."

"You're good at what you do," she assured him, "But it's dangerous out there. What if you need me?"

"I can't imagine not needing you, Poppy," he said quietly.

In mid July he got three owls in a row. The first were his NEWT results - all O's. The next were his Healing results - perfect marks in every field. His Healing certificate was attached. The third was from St. Mungo's, offering him a job. He wrote back immediately thanking them for the opportunity, but he would be working in the field during the war helping those who needed him most. He hoped he would be back before long, and would love to discuss a job opportunity then.

He made a copy of his certificate and packed it with his things in case he'd need them. He boxed up his recommendation letters, thesis's, Healing certificate, and other important papers and left them on Madame Pomfrey's desk with a letter.

 _Poppy,_

 _I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye properly. You know I've got to go and fight this war with Harry, to protect him and anyone else that needs it. I wish I could stay and keep learning from you, keep working with you._

 _Please keep these papers safe for me when I return. I expect I'll need a job after all of this is done, and I hear the Matron at Hogwarts only takes the best._

 _All my love,_

 _Draco Malfoy, Healer (hons)_

 _P.S. Stay safe and don't let the castle fall apart while I'm gone._

He packed up the rest of his things and Floo'd to The Burrow, where he was greeted by Molly Weasley. He'd met her briefly a few times, though he'd never spent time at her home. Before he couldn't, his parents wouldn't have allowed it. Afterwards when he could he stayed in school to work.

"Welcome Draco," she said warmly, and he felt at home immediately. "You'll be Harry's fellow then."

Draco froze for a half second. It was still new, everyone knowing. He gave a quick nod, and she leaned in close. "I know they want to leave," she said gravely, "But they're too young. You've got a good head on your shoulders, I hear. Passed your NEWTs and your Healing exams and all. I would hope you have more sense."

"Mum!" came Ron's voice in the door, and Molly jumped back. "Is that Draco?"

Ron rescued him, and explained to Draco that his mum was going a bit bonkers that they'd decided not to finish their seventh year. He led them up to his room and told them about going to rescue Harry that night.

"They've got a good plan. Not supposed to say what it is of course. But it should work, and we'll all be here tonight."

Of course, like all the best plans, everything went to shite very quickly. Molly was very glad about Draco's presence when he took charge and started sorting Fred out, then tended to the others as they came in.

When it was over he had a moment with Harry outside, and they grieved Mad-Eye together.

Ron showed them the spattergroit ghoul, which made Draco laugh pretty hard.

"You should have consulted me," he said through his laughter. "This is awesome!"

Hermione told them what she'd done to her parents, which was decidedly less funny to Draco.

Harry and Draco had no one else. Draco had already said his goodbye to Poppy, and given Hermione his belongings to keep safe. She showed them the beaded bag and he had marvelled at her magic.

Still, no one was quite ready for the Death Eaters at the wedding.

"We've got to go," Harry roared at Draco over the noise. He was running in the wrong direction, but he'd seen someone go down in a flash and was clearly bleeding.

"They need me!" Draco protested.

" _I_ need you!" Harry said and pulled him towards Hermione, who apparated them all to London.

Draco was practically vibrating with frustration, ready to go back with Ron, but Hermione and Harry talked sense. They'd be putting everyone in more danger by going back, and they had to keep moving. Their day wasn't even done yet, through the coffee shop fiasco and Grimmauld Place.

It was in Grimmauld Place that they were first together. Hermione and Ron had fallen asleep in the living room, and Draco wandered the halls of Grimmauld Place. He had never been there before, not like the others, though he had spent time there as a child. He found Harry roaming the halls as well, searching through the library for anything useful. There was a fire lit, and shadows danced across Harry's face.

"I can't believe it's finally happening," Harry said, glancing at Draco when he walked into the room. "My whole life has been building up to this war, and it's here, and what if —"

"Don't what if," Draco said, moving to take Harry into his arms.

"I can't lose you too, Draco. You're everything."

The blond's heart skipped a beat. "You could never lose me," he murmured in assurance.

"I'm serious, Draco. I've lost so many people. I can't keep — k-keep losing —"

Harry broke off, and Draco knew that there was nothing he could say then that would help, that would assure him that Draco wouldn't die, because the fact of the matter was that no one could promise that it wouldn't happen. So he switched tactics and kissed him, trying to show him everything was going to be okay. Harry moaned, and Draco pushed his hips into him. They were alive right now, so he wanted to be truly alive with Harry. He ran his hands through Harry's messy black hair. Harry bit Draco's lip, and he felt like he was on fire.

They frantically removed their clothes between kisses, desperately reaching for each other. _This could be our only chance_ , Draco thought, and he knew Harry was feeling the same way. Harry dragged him down to the floor in front of the fire, and they ran their hands over each other's naked bodies in the warm glowing light. It was as though Harry needed to touch every part of Draco, commit it to memory. Not that he was complaining.

"Come here," Draco murmured. "B-be with me. I want you inside me." He had never been so vulnerable with anyone, but he had complete trust in Harry. Harry would be gentle. Harry would be kind. Harry would be loving. It was something that he just knew in his heart, and he lay face down on the floor and let Harry cover him. They used a spell that Draco had learned at St. Mungo's, a lubricating spell, and Harry was soon working his finger gently inside of Draco.

They'd fooled around before, plenty. Snogging in dark corners of the castle, when no one was looking. Sharing a bed sometimes in their dorm. They had gotten hot and heavy quite a few times in between all of Draco's studying and Harry's private lessons with Dumbledore, and Quidditch, and all the other things they needed to do. They'd pleasured each other over and over again, using their hands, using their mouths. But never had they gone quite this far, and Draco's whole body tingled with anticipation. He felt his entrance stretch, burning just a little, and felt Harry's finger inside of him. He slowly worked it in, and Draco gasped.

"Too much?" Harry asked, freezing.

"A little," Draco admitted. "Try moving it back. Yes, like that. Now forward. In and out and yessssss." Draco hissed as Harry followed his instructions. Instead of just moving forward Harry was now moving forward and back in a small pumping motion, moving further in each time. Draco felt his own hips bucking almost of their own accord back to reach him.

When he removed his finger Draco lay under Harry panting, ready for more. But Harry held his bum cheeks apart and looked for a long moment, moaning gently, and he knew Harry was pleasuring himself at the sight of him. "I - I need you," Draco begged, writhing a little. He was stroking himself as well, and he needed more from Harry.

"I'm here," Harry said, and pressed his cock against Draco's entrance, causing Draco to release a guttural noise.

Harry pressed into him, learning from earlier and giving short thrusts at a slow pace to keep Draco comfortable.

"Is this okay?" Harry would murmur, and Draco could only make an almost animal noise that he hoped would be taken for a yes.

And when he was fully inside of him, finally thrusting with large powerful movements, Draco could feel every sensation so intimately, could hardly stand his own pleasure. He cried out in his release, the force of his orgasm beyond anything he had ever felt before. "H-Harry," he cried out, the only name he ever wanted on his lips.

Harry, meanwhile, had felt Draco tighten around him, pulse around his cock, and was thrusting with great urgency into his boyfriend. When he found his own release Draco felt it spurting inside of him, and it was so incredibly erotic that Draco moaned himself.

Harry was still for a long moment, or as still as he could be. Draco could feel him quivering, calming down. He removed himself from Draco's body slowly, carefully, and they both groaned at the effort. Draco could feel his cock twitching again, though he knew it was too early for another go. They lay next to each other sweating and panting, like they'd just ran a marathon. Harry reached for Draco and pulled him into the safety of his arms, and Draco reached for his nearby wand and summoned a nearby blanket to cover them with, pillows to lay on. They whispered together into the night, holding each other and basking in each other's warmth and attention.

"Did I hurt you?" Harry asked.

"Not once we figured out what we were doing," Draco assured. "Did you like that? Was it okay?"

"Okay?" Harry laughed quietly. "Okay doesn't even touch what that was. D'you think... well, next time d'you think you could be on top?"

Draco imagined being over Harry, his cock buried inside him, biting his neck, giving him pleasure. The idea made his cock stiffen. "I'm sure we could arrange it," he said, his words dripping with lust. It struck him then that they had taken each other's virginity, and the idea made Draco's heart dance. "You know I love you," he said fondly.

"You know I love you too," Harry replied.

"I can't promise you I'll be here forever," Draco said solemnly, addressing Harry's earlier concern. "But I promise I'll try. And I promise that I'll give you my whole self, every time. It's me and you."

"Against the world," Harry said, hushed. Because these days more than ever it felt like they were against the entire world quite literally.


	9. Chapter 9

Draco was glad for his Healer training overall. It came in handy over the course of the next year, and every single hour of practice was worth it. He tended the groups minor injuries after the Ministry, especially after Ron got splinched.

Harry wasn't sure what to do, but Draco pushed Hermione aside. "I've got him!" he said, then reached in his satchel for the dittany. "Hermione, you're best at spells! Put the protections up!" But she stood still, staring at Ron, crying. "Move!" he barked, and she jumped, then waved her wand in the air.

"Salvo hexia..."

He treated Harry and saved his life after Godric's Hollow.

He treated Harry to make sure he didn't get hypothermia when he jumped in a lake in the middle of winter.

He treated Hermione after she had been tortured by Bellatrix, and Ollivander and Luna as well. He treated Griphook as well as the goblin would allow him to.

He treated them all after breaking into and out of Gringott's.

He treated various cuts and bruises of old friends when they reached the Room of Requirement.

Before they scattered through Hogwarts to find the diadem, Harry had a moment with Draco. "Listen, there's going to be a battle here. There's no way to avoid it, really. You-Know-Who is close, and he's going to know I'm here."

"I know. If we find the diadem and kill the snake -"

"Draco... you can't help with this. You're going to be busy."

"What do you mean?" Draco had spent his whole life preparing for this day, this moment. He wasn't going to abandon Harry now.

"Madame Pomfrey will be the only qualified Healer, and there might be a castle full of serious injuries. People could die who don't need to if you're not there to help her."

"But Harry -"

"You know I'm right. There's no one I'd rather have by my side while I do this, but she needs you more."

Draco nodded, unable to argue the p[oint, and they hugged tightly before parting ways. "Don't die," he whispered to him. "You're all I've got. Me and you."

"Against the world. I'll try not to," Harry promised. "Go save some lives."

And with a parting kiss Harry ran to Ravenclaw tower, and Draco ran to the Hospital Wing.

"Draco!" Poppy cried when she saw him. "How did you - never mind that, you have to go. It's not safe here anymore."

"I'm afraid you right, Poppy," he said, "It isn't safe. That's why I'm here." He quickly explained what she needed to know, insofar as Death Eaters were coming and they was going to be a fight. As he was explaining, a portrait walked through and announced that it was starting. Voldemorts vile voice rang in his head, declaring war.

"We have to move," he said. "Get all of your potions. Get all the bandages you can. The hospital wing is too far, we'll have to set up in the Great Hall."

"Start taking the first load," she said, "And you might want to check the greenhouse too for supplies. Pomona has been keeping your garden."

He felt a rush of gratitude as he ran out to the greenhouses. They knew he'd be back, and they were ready for him.

An hour later they were both as ready as they could be, and Draco was feeling nervous.

"Are you any good in a fight, Poppy?" Draco asked dryly.

"It's been a while," she admitted, "But I reckon I could still flatten a Death Eater or two. Have you been keeping up on your Healing?"

"I've needed it more often than I'd like," he said tightly, thinking of Hermione. Her screams would haunt him. "Don't worry there."

"Good. Because I'm thinking when we're all through here I might like a semi-retirement, and I'll need someone to take over til I'm gone for good."

Draco dropped the cot he'd been setting up. "You mean it?" he asked. "Really?"

"Really."

"That's all I've wanted. St. Mungo's wants me, but I've just wanted to stay at Hogwarts."

"Well let's get through this then, and we'll work out the details."

The waiting was the hardest part. Once the fighting started they could hear the battle, and Draco itched to join in but knew he'd be better served where he was. And then the first injury walked through the door and he forgot all about the waiting, and the battle, and what Harry was doing. He drafted a few people to help, instructing them to find injured people and bring them to the Great Hall. He threw himself into the work, and soon wished he could duplicate himself.

"Get over here Ginny," he snapped with authority. He knew her mum would be having a fit that she was there at all, so he tried to keep her out of trouble. "Set up some more cots over there, help people onto them."

When he saw Fred or George carried into the hall, limp, he wanted to scream. But he kept going, kept doing what he could.

"Poppy, I need more bandages," he shouted, both hands busy with an almost severed leg. She duplicated what she had and ran over.

When Voldemort called a ceasefire for one hour, Draco resisted the urge to run and find Harry before he did something stupid, like go into the forest. But he had to trust Harry, and he had injuries to heal. So he took advantage of his hour by ransacking the hospital wing for more supplies, and when he ran into Ron and Hermione on the way back they filled him in. The diadem was destroyed, and so was the cup. It was just the snake now. Hermione told him what happened to Snape, and Draco shook his head.

"He was ours the whole time," he said in disbelief. He hadn't trusted him any more than Harry had. Then they reached the Great Hall, and Ron ran to his family. Hermione went with him, and Draco went back to work.

He laid out the bodies for after the war, and his heart broke for Lupin and Tonks, and the son they'd left behind. He moved Colin Creevey, and thought that he seemed awfully heavy for how small he was. He moved Lavender Brown to a bed and revived her, bandaging her and shaking his head over her new reality as a werewolf. He worked until he felt drained, and then he worked some more. He sent a runner for supplies, and he saved his tears for later.

And when the battle came to the Great Hall, he was ready.

He threw curses and jinxes with no remorse. He shielded who he could, and he helped everyone who his hands could reach. He was a one man storm of fury and compassion, wrapped up together in a contradictory swirl. He tried not to kill, if only because they needed to stand trial for what they'd done here this day. But when he hit a Death Eater and they didn't get back up, Draco couldn't bring himself to feel bad.

And then they announced that Harry Potter was dead, and Draco's world crumbled. He fell to his knees on the stone floor, but he felt nothing. He knew Poppy was tying to get him to stand up, but he felt off kilter. And then Hermione and Ron were there helping her, and he was somehow on his feet, walking outside to see Voldemort himself coming at them.

Hagrid had Harry, and Harry wasn't moving. It was true. The half giant carried his whole universe limp and motionless in his arms, walking beside his cold, pale mother. And all of a sudden Draco had nothing to lose and his friends weren't propping him up - they were holding him back, because he was ready to rip them all limb to limb without his wand.

"He wouldn't want it," Ron said, an unexpected voice of reason. "He'd want you of all people safe." So they watched as Neville took his stand, destroying the snake, and Draco was satisfied that they could at least kill Voldemort now. And the fighting broke out again, so he and Poppy rushed to the Great Hall again to fight this time.

"Atta boy," Madame Pomfrey said when they stood back to back in the thick of it, throwing off curses and spells. Draco was using both his wand and his left hand, throwing two curses at once, one verbal and one silent. His enemies were so confused that they had no idea what was being thrown at them or from where.

"I was taught by the best," he said, throwing a shield up in between Ginny and some faceless Death Eater. He had a personal goal to now take out every last Death Eater he could find - none would roam London while he was living and breathing, and they would certainly not be in Hogwarts. The school had been tainted enough - this was not just his home, but it had been Harry's, and he would make sure it was unsullied.

"Not my daughter you bitch!" Draco heard, and whipped his head around to see Mrs. Weasley take on Bellatrix Lestrange. He cheered when she was defeated, but then saw Voldemort aiming for her. He lifted his want to shield her, but Harry was quicker.

But Harry was dead. Draco looked over to the sound of the voice and saw him standing there, wand out.

"Harry," he said, his voice cracking. He wondered for a second if he was going mad.

"Draco," he said, and reached his hand out. Draco took it; it was warm. "Didn't think I'd leave so soon?" he joked.

"Me and you?" Draco asked, still not quite believing it.

"Against the world," Harry confirmed.

Their reunion was short lived, however, as Voldemort sneered at them and shot a curse in their direction. Draco was reasonably sure it had been meant for himself, but Harry had pushed him out of the way and started working to take down Voldemort for good.

During their final confrontation, Draco could only watch and wait - and pray. He didn't pray to the old gods often, but then, he didn't often feel that he needed them.

And when it was finally over, Draco's job was not done. He and Poppy set up a mandatory check in station, and refused to let anyone leave unless they'd been cleared by one of them. Harry had somehow eluded him, but he at least knew he'd be seeing him later and could give him a thorough check and get his story. Poppy and Draco both checked each other over and, satisfied, let each other go. Poppy was going to organize tea for herself and Molly, and Draco was going to find Harry.

He found him in their dorm, in Draco's bed. He'd had the good sense to preform a cleansing charm, and was fast asleep. Draco took the opportunity to do some rudimentary checks and seal up a few cuts, but didn't find anything alarming so he cleaned himself off and crawled in next to Harry.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco woke to the sound of cursing and hissing. He sat up in bed to find Harry clutching his foot and hopping.

"The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, The Saviour of the Wizarding World, not to mention youngest seeker in a century - clumsiest wizard in the universe."

"Shut up," Harry grumbled. "Now I might not give you your present."

"What present?" Draco sat up at this.

"Oh you're not laughing now, are you? But when I was finding the damn thing you're all giggles."

"I didn't laugh, I made fun. There's a difference. What present?"

Harry kissed him. "The present I bought for you when you worked at St. Mungo's. I was going to give it to you when this was all over. And, well, it's over I guess."

Draco stood up now. "What could you have possibly bought me two years ago that I didn't know about?"

"I bought it in London, after the bridge collapsed. At the hotel. It had little shops in the ground floor, don't you remember? And along the street."

"I couldn't remember my name that day," Draco told him, curious now. "Where is it? You can't have hidden it here all year, you weren't at school. Do you have Hermione's bag?"

"No. It's my my mokeskin - oh, here it is." Harry lifted the bag Hagrid had given him for his seventeenth birthday by the drawstring from behind the bedside table. He opened the bag and shook it a little to examine the contents, then reached in. He kept it in his hand the whole time, and Draco couldn't see it.

"What's all this then?" He asked when Harry took his hand.

"Draco, I've been through hell the past year. I couldn't have gotten through it without you. And I supported you through your Healer training, and you've supported me through... well, everything, I guess, since I was eleven. You never once let me down."

"I couldn't," Draco said. "It's me and you, remember?"

"Against the world," He confirmed. "And I don't really know what happens next, but whatever it is I want to do it with you by my side. And I guess I just - well, I don't know how else to say this, but - Draco, will you marry me?" He opened his hand, and in it were two white gold rings. They were simple at first sight, but had intricate designs swirling all the way around, etched into the gold.

"What?" Draco said automatically, taking one of the rings.

"We can change them if you don't like them," Harry said, sounding nervous now. "I just picked them up. I mean I liked them, but if you don't we can just -"

"Shut up for a minute."

"Okay."

"You want me to marry you? Is that even legal?"

"Not technically. Not here or in the muggle world. Some places I suppose, but not Britain. We could have a ceremony though, and move in together, and put each other in our wills, adopt, and - "

"Hold on, rush-into-it-Potter. I have questions first."

"Like what?"

"Why do you want a ceremony? You hate attention."

"Well, yes. But after Bill and Fleur's wedding I thought I might like that. And we could all use a reason to celebrate, I think."

"I'm going to take over for Poppy," he blurted. "She wants to retire after this. Maybe one more school year with me working full time beside her to do the hand off, and then she wants me to run the Hospital Wing. I want to do it."

"I figured. This is a bit sooner than I thought, but it's always been leading up to this, hasn't it?"

"I guess so. I could work at St. Mungo's, or open my own private practice I guess. But this is what I want to do. It's just that how does that work for you? I'd be at Hogwarts during the school year at least. What do you want to do? Do you still want to be an auror?"

Harry shook his head. "It was an idea that seemed exciting when I was in school. Everyone I knew were aurors, and they were so cool, and they were taking down dark wizards. But..."

"Go on," Draco prodded.

"Well, a lot of them are dead now, aren't they? Mad-eye, Tonks. My dad. Sirius. They were all the best, that's what people keep saying. But they're all dead, aren't they? It seems like you do the job til someone kills you, and I can't live like that anymore. Besides, I think I've had enough of all that after this year. After last night."

"So what do you want to do then? Play Quidditch? Loaf around? You could do either."

"Honestly... I think I just want to take care of Teddy now. Full time if Andromeda wants it, with her if she doesn't."

"See, that's the thing though! You want a baby full time. What if we're not ready for a baby?"

"I think we're ready for just about anything. But it's not just Teddy, really."

"What do you mean? Do you have any other godchildren I don't know about?"

"No." Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I have a big idea. A really big idea, and it might not work, but I have it anyway."

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"Well, the Dursley's had me since I was a baby, and they never wanted me. The things they did to me, I just -" He broke off, composed himself. "And Riddle, too. He was an orphan. If he'd maybe grown up differently, had loving parents... and Teddy has me and Andromeda, but what if he didn't? Especially after the war there are children without homes. Children who need someone. Even you needed someone after fifth year. Sirius did too. We can find out the list of magical births and especially muggle-borns, and make sure they're treated right."

"You want to run an orphanage," Draco said disbelievingly.

"I want to run a home," Harry corrected. "I'll hire tutors to teach them maths and reading and all the stuff you learn before Hogwarts. There can be dorm rooms a common area, and everyone can live together. They can learn about the magical world if they're from the muggle world. We'd teach the kids from the magical world about the muggle world. What d'you reckon?"

"I think it's a lovely idea Harry," he said sincerely. "I really do. Someone ought to do it, and I think the community needs it, especially now. But how can you do that and have me at Hogwarts? You're talking a round the clock job, and so am I."

"Well, here's the hard part. I want to run it on Hogwarts grounds."

Draco laughed. "You're mad," he said. "There's no way you can do that. McGonagall would never have it."

"I think she might," he argued. "I think if I line everything up first and propose to build a new structure on the grounds in the right spot, she will. Then you could live there with me."

"Well... Harry, if that's what you want, let's try it."

"I wonder if Hermione can help me get funding or something," Harry said offhandedly, then stated at Draco, who was open mouthed. "What?"

"You're joking Harry," he said, then laughed like a loon. "Oh Merlin, you don't know! When's the last time you were at Gringott's? When you weren't robbing it I mean."

"Er - summer before fifth year. Bill got my money out before sixth year for me because of the lines. Why?"

"Harry, Sirius left you everything right? The house, everything in it, his gold?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So how much gold did he have?"

"I dunno. A bit I expect. He was a prisoner most of his life though, it's not like he was drawing an income."

"No, Harry. My mother was a Black, remember? He left you the entire Black family fortune. Harry, that's several lifetimes worth of gold. Millions and millions of galleons. Honestly, you couldn't spend it all if you tried your hardest. You're probably the richest wizard alive. I certainly wouldn't worry about funding!"

"Oh." Harry sat down on the bed beside Draco, clearly shocked. "Oh. Well then. That's good, isn't it? That makes things easier."

"Talk to McGonagall first," Draco suggested gently. "See if it's possible even. Then we'll take the next steps. You can still do it if you can't do it at Hogwarts, just have someone else run it with you." They sat in silence for a moment before Harry leaned in slightly to rest against Draco. "Tell me what happened after we split up yesterday," Draco said. "Tell me everything."

And he did. He talked for hours, telling him about Snape, the pensive, the room of Requirement. The forest. The resurrection stone, his loved ones around him. Kings Cross station and Dumbledore, Narcissa asking about Draco. By the time he was done his voice was hoarse and they were both crying.

"I thought I'd lost you," Draco said. "I mean, everyone did. But it felt like a hole in my heart when I heard. I couldn't breath. I couldn't even stand up on my own. I didn't know what to do without you for a minute, let alone the rest of my life."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, pleading for forgiveness. "I had to pretend. I had to get out of the forest alive."

"I know," he reassured. "It just shook me to my core. I realized I was nothing without you in that moment. I was still Draco, but without you it didn't mean anything."

"I'm back now," Harry said, "And I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

Draco took on of Harry's rings and examined it. "Its engraved. 'Me and you against the world.' Well, that's confident, isn't it?" Harry blushed. "I'm teasing Harry. Of course I'll marry you, Merlin! After all we've been through, you're not getting rid of me now!" Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, and Draco pushed him onto the bed and kissed him.

"Go on then, take this back for safe keeping. If we're doing this right then we'll have some enchantments put on them for the wedding." Harry slipped the rings back in his pouch and closed it up again. "And we're going to have to go get lunch or something, because I'm starving and I know you haven't eaten since the Hog's Head too."

They made their way to the Great Hall to see who was still in the castle, detouring first to the Hospital Wing to see Poppy and check on any patients that had stayed overnight. Draco promised to come back after he found Hermione to get his trunk out of her bag.

They found that they were right in time for lunch, and a good deal of people had stayed or came back to help repair the castle. They ate and joined the clean up efforts, repairing walls and whatever else they could. Every single person in the castle who knew protection spells put them up over the castle to help repair the ancient protections.

The next few days were hectic and rushed. Draco and Harry visited Gringott's to sort their affairs, setting wills that left everything to each other. Harry looked in his vault from the inheritance and Draco had to prop him up when he realized he couldn't even see the back of the vault for all the gold. The total was ten digits, and that didn't include the jewels, artifacts, furniture, and property titles. He made immediate arrangements to take care of what he called his family - the Weasley's and Hermione. He also set up a trust for Teddy, and made sure that everyone had enough to live on for the rest of their lives if they wanted. He also wrote a note to Ron's Great Aunt, requesting to purchase Shell Cottage outright as a late wedding gift for Bill and Fleur. She accepted, as she had left it to them in her will anyway. This way she would get some more gold to see her through her retirement, but the newleyweds could still keep the house.

Then he asked Gringott's to contact a list of people, the families of those killed in the war. He opened a new account that authorized those people to withdraw up to ten thousand galleons from it each. The idea was that they would pay for the funeral arrangements, and he included a personal letter of condolence to each one.

"They didn't fight for you," Draco reminded him when he was writing the letters. "They fought for what was right. Make sure you tell them that you know that."

Next he sought out a builder and got estimates on how much it would cost to create the children's home that Harry envisioned. He consulted a magical architect who drew up plans and helped suggest enchantments and spells that would help in a rowdy house of children. He was going to take the plans and the estimates to McGonnagall to show how serious he was about it. He'd even dug up a blueprint of the Hogwarts grounds to find the right spot to put it.

They went to an owlery as well as a broomstick shop. Harry had lost his Firebolt and Hedwig on his final departure from the Dursley's, and he'd been neglecting to replace them. Draco pointed out how impractical this was, and forced him in to look. They ended up with a pair of barn owls that appeared quite attached to each other and named them Castor and Pollux. Draco got a Firebolt of his own at Harry's insistence, though why he'd need such a broom was beyond him. Harry shrugged.

"If you can afford to buy out the entire store then you may as well buy the best broom available," he said simply.

Next they went clothes shopping, and both boys picked up a new wardrobe. Harry never wanted to wear anything he'd worn in the woods again, and he needed black dress robes for the funerals. Draco figured he was done growing too, so he made him get a few new suits while he was at it. Draco did much the same, and they sent their packages to Grimmauld Place while they went on with their business.

They popped all over Britain next, checking out various properties that he'd pulled deeds out of from the Gringott's vault. Harry was trying to decide what to keep, what to sell, and what might be used for some other purpose.

The next day they had separate meetings with Professor McGonnagall, who had been named headmistress to no ones great surprise. Draco, about job details for the Hospital Wing, Harry, about his children's home. They stood outside of her office door, waiting.

"It'll be fine, Harry," Draco said, trying to soothe his nerves. His meeting was going to be quite relaxed, as he knew Poppy wanted him. It wasn't really an interview, though he had all of his papers in order just in case. Six years under Minerva McGonnagall's tutelage had taught him one certainty with her - always be prepared.

"Yeah," said Harry, though he didn't look convinced. He looked even paler than usual. Draco wished Harry was scheduled to go first, but he knew that Harry would probably take longer.

The door opened, and the spiral staircase appeared. "That must be for me," he said, giving Harry's hand a squeeze and went on in.

"Mister Malfoy," she greeted, sitting straight backed in the headmasters chair and looking for all the world like she belonged there.

"Professor," he said cordially.

He was glad he'd prepared as well as he had, because he needed it. It wasn't a matter of if he could do the job, or if he wanted it, or if Hogwarts could benefit from his healing abilities - those answers were easy. But she asked very shrewd questions about how he would fit in, especially having graduated so recently and knowing so many students personally.

"I don't really know them anymore," he confessed. "In school I was working in the Hospital so much that I really only knew my close friends. I'm not even sure if any of them are coming back, to be honest, and it wouldn't effect myself or them if I did."

McGonnagall raised an eyebrow. "How did you reach that conclusion, Mister Malfoy?"

"I wouldn't be coming back as a professor," he pointed out. "I'd be working for the school and would be seen as an authority figure, but I don't have any say over their grades or anything. Points maybe, detentions. But I like to think I'm a fair man."

The interview continued on, and she took copies of his certification as well as his recommendations for her records. He also presented her with copies of the two thesis' he had completed in case she wanted them on file.

At the end of their hour the professor pulled a piece of official looking parchment out of her desk drawer with the Hogwarts crest on the letterhead. She slid it over to him.

"Professor McGonagall, am I hired?"

"Well since we're colleagues as soon as you sign that paper, you may as well start using my first name," she said primly, and offered him a rare smile.

Draco didn't even read the paper, and signed it with a flourish.

"That could have said anything and you would still have signed it, wouldn't you?" she asked.

"I don't care what it says," Draco said even as she made a copy and handed it to him. "I know it says I can work and live at Hogwarts, and that's all I care about."

They shook hands. "Welcome aboard, Mister Malfoy."

"Thanks Minerva," he said cheerfully. "I think you ought to use my first name as well though."

She laughed at him. "Old habits die hard," she said, and gestured to the door. "You'd better go and let Mister Potter in. I expect he's waited long enough."

He traded spots with Harry, murmuring a quiet "Good luck," and heading toward the hospital wing. He didn't know how long they would be, so he was just going to wait there.

He read his copy of the agreement on his way, and was quite surprised with what he saw. 80,000 Galleons was his starting salary, and as he was comfortable with Poppy he asked her about it. He hadn't a clue about what was a normal wage.

"That's quite generous for a starting wage as a newly certified Healer," she pointed out, confirming his suspicions. He had high recommendations, but he also had no experience outside of Hogwarts, the war, and a summer at St. Mungo's "But then, I believe it may be inflated since you're basically on call twenty four seven, and you have hundreds of patients who could potentially need you."

She broke down the wages for him according to the latest information from the ministry. 60,000 Galleons was the average starting wage out of school for his field, though the pay scale jumped significantly for years of experience afterwards. Qualified Healers in Britain were actually quite rare since it was a very difficult branch of magic, and the NEWT Requirement was so stringent. The number of people that even qualified to apply was so small, and not all of those people went into Healing. Then there were those who didn't make it through the program, or those who did but St. Mungo's didn't feel they were good enough to hire.

"She may have counted my war time as experience," he mused.

"Or she knows what she's getting, and she wants to keep it."

"It doesn't matter. Harry and I are getting married, so he gave me full access to his Gringott's account. I could live a thousand years and never need to make a knut."

"Still though," Poppy said proudly, "it shows just what she thinks of you and your abilities. I expect she'll even raise that next year, seeing as - " She stopped, tea cup hallway to her lips, looking shocked.

"What?" he asked urgently, "Are you okay?" He was already pulling out his wand to see.

"It's just - did you say you were getting married?"

"Oh! Er, yeah. It won't be legal, but -"

She dropped her teacup and burst into tears. Draco cast a repairing charm on it and picked it up, but it dropped and shattered again when she pulled him into a hug.

"I can't breath!" he complained, but she didn't care.

By the time he got her settled down, which involved making more tea, telling her how it happened and when and where and why, Harry had entered the room.

"Oh, Mister Potter!" Poppy said, running to give him the same treatment. "Congratulations!"

"How did you know?" he asked, dazed.

"Why, Draco just told me, dear."

"Wait," Draco said, "'How did you know' - she said yes didn't she?"

"Yes. What are you talking about?"

"Our engagement," Draco said with a laugh. "I knew she'd say yes! It was too brilliant to say no to!"

"I don't know what to do first," he said, sounding dazed. "The builder. I have to tell the builder, because she said it has to be up before September." He grinned then. "She told me she'd be happy to rent me some land on Hogwarts grounds so that she can afford her newest Healer."


	11. Chapter 11

Everything happened very quickly after Minerva McGonagall approved Draco and Harry's career plans. Kreacher had been drafted to help clean the children's house every night, and while Harry would have preferred he stayed on site it would have been cruel to suggest to Kreacher that he stop tending Grimmauld Place. So he cleaned and took care of that home during the day, and then came to the children's home at night. Molly Weasley also agreed to help out and would come every morning to occupy the younger children while the older kids were tutored. Arthur Weasley had thanked him for this idea, as Molly had found it difficult to get out of bed in the mornings in her grief over Fred, and all of her children out of the house.

Harry would hire tutors as soon as he knew how many kids he'd have. That was his other problem - government records access. But the name Potter had quite a lot of pull these days, and with a few pleas to the right people he was able to secure annual access to the magical birth records, including muggleborns. On Draco's encouragement he got this in writing, and would always have access. The problem, as explained by a ministry secretary, would really be with the births between when the Ministry fell and when standards and practices were reinstated - the magical children were tracked still, but the muggleborns had been omitted. They might not find them all, and if they did it might be too late. Magic generally showed itself by the age of seven, but until then it was quite impossible to find it in the average home, and they couldn't exactly go door to door and check every home in Britain.

Including Teddy Harry had approached the families of thirteen children, all at different ages, who's parents had died or disappeared in the war. Ten of the children were joining him in September. He'd cross referenced the birth lists of school aged children and younger with the death lists that had been made available to him, but he was also organizing welfare checks at several homes just to ensure there was no abuse happening at all muggleborn houses. He took three children from orphanages in the muggle world and transferred them to his new home effective August 1, and he also made a few connections with the aurors who saw to cases involving children to make sure they knew he existed and could use him as a resource.

Hermione, bless her, had done his paperwork for him. He was technically a charity, though the only donor was himself. He was set to hold forty children outside of his own, though she didn't think he'd hit it. The number of magical children wasn't large enough to see a spike in orphaned or abandoned children, but that just meant he wouldn't need to turn anyone away.

The builder had put a large manor house on the plot of land Minerva had decided to rent him. Hogwarts actually covered the entire school, the Great Lake, the Forbidden Forest, and a vast swath of the surrounding Scottish land. Their house was situated a great distance from the castle, though they had a view of it from the south side of the house. The grounds also included a half Quidditch pitch, gardens, and pond. Harry added to the blueprints a greenhouse area for Draco, who would grow his personal herbs and plants for his brewing.

The house itself was a weathered gray stone, with pink English roses creeping up one side. The double front doors were painted a deep blue, and had a brass knocker shaped like a falcon. That had been Draco's addition, because he liked the nod to themselves. He thought it made it more of a home that way. Directly there were cubbies and hooks and benches for shoes and cloaks, and the great room. There was also a library and a large kitchen, with a huge dining room. There was a grand staircase leading up to the second floor where the bedrooms were, and another staircase leading to the third floor which housed classrooms and Harry and Draco's bedroom, as well as the nurseries. There was only one baby now, but there might be more in future to join Teddy.

The kids bedrooms had sturdy wooden bunk beds built into the walls, and slept two to a room. Girls would be together, as would the boys. There were the same enchantments over the girls rooms as there were over Hogwarts dorms so that there could be no hanky panky. He was still a teenager and was all too aware of the urges associated with young boys. There were also enchantments over the entire grounds, including the large wrought iron fence and the stone walls surrounding the place. It was an age enchantment designed to keep scorned parents who had children removed from care against stealing them in the night, something Harry didn't like thinking about but had to. Anyone over eighteen would not be allowed through the doors with the exception of Harry, Draco, and the Hogwarts headmistress. They keyed in a few others as well so that Molly and Arthur could come, the tutors, and other necessary individuals. The trick to the enchantment was that anyone could get in really, but it had to be Harry or Draco who invited them in specifically, which they wouldn't be doing. They could have their friends over certainly, but they had agreed no stranger would enter this house just in case. They would use their war time instincts to prevent anything from happening that might harm the children.

The rooms had brass nameplates on the door, waiting for a name to be assigned. Harry had filled the rooms with the most comfortable bedding he could find, and enlisted Ginny's help in finding tasteful decorations that could be easily personalized. The kitchen was mostly windows along one wall, with a door to the attached greenhouse. Sunlight streamed in, hitting the hanging copper pots and pans as it did. The rest of the kitchen was done in brick and slate gray paint, with an oversized hearth that doubled as their Floo fire. They had set a connection between the Hospital Wing only and the house. It had been hotly debated whether it was necessary by Minerva, but Draco insisted.

"I can't apparated because you can't do that on the grounds, so I need to be able to get home if there's an emergency there," he'd pointed out. "I could fly or turn into my animagus, but that takes time. There's going to be upwards of forty kids in the house that might need me."

In the end he got his way because his logic was sound and she trusted them not to abuse it, providing Harry kept the Floo powder locked up tightly against little hands.

There was also a potions lab in the basement that Draco was quite excited about, as it was much more advanced than the schools. And since potions brewing didn't necessarily require magic he could teach the children the basics that they might have otherwise learned watching their parents.

On the day it opened, Draco told Harry that he had to stop calling it "the house" and give it a proper name. "Kids will live here until they're seventeen that have absolutely no connection outside of you," he pointed out, "so it needs a name. Something to unite them." So when the papers asked what the place was called Harry told them it was Sanctuary, and it's doors would always be open to kids that needed it. After the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler both ran stories on it he got five more kids. He was up to eighteen, and he was freaking out a bit.

"Harry, calm down!" Draco said, using wandless magic to move a few boxes aside. They were moving things around, all the kids had been settled for the night and they were making adjustments based off of their stuff. It was one in the morning and Harry was looking like he might have a meltdown.

"I'm an idiot," he replied, "I don't know anything about kids. Why am I doing this?"

"Because they need somewhere to be," Draco reminded him firmly. "And you won't let them be in the same situation you were." Draco did a quick scan of their list containing all names, ages, and prior homes of the children. "Look, three of them are already school aged so they'll be in Hogwarts most of the year, unless they want to come back for the holidays. Two are starting this year for the first time. One is Teddy. That leaves twelve." He waved his wand across the parchment and the names organized themselves as he saw them in his head. "These twelve are underage, and half of them are toddlers still. But these six are a bit older, could maybe help you mind the younger ones. Like a game, yeah? And Molly will be here in the mornings, and I'll be here in the evenings and weekends. Granted I'll have to run out if the alarm rings, and I might not always be able to come h -"

Draco was cut off by the press of Harry's lips against his. "Oh," he said. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining."

"For making it manageable. For being here with me. Take your pick."

Draco accepted the kiss, and leaned into it. Then he heard a small noise to his right and looked over, pulling back from Harry. A little girl was standing there.

"Er - hullo, sweetie," Draco said, feeling a bit caught out. They had dispensed with the secrecy around their relationship ages ago, but it felt odd to have a child watching them kiss. Harry was also a bit red in the face he noticed they weren't alone.

"Why were you kissing him?" she asked Harry quite boldly.

"Because I love him," he replied simply.

"But boys don't kiss boys."

"They do," Harry said with a twitch of the lips. "You just saw it."

"But... why?"

"For the same reason girls kiss boys," Draco said cheekily. "Because Harry is handsome and I want to marry him."

"Oh."

"And why are you out of bed..." Draco could tell that Harry was searching for the name. "Emma?"

"I couldn't sleep. This place is big, and I'm scared."

"Oh. Is your roommate up too?"

"Mhmm."

"Is anyone else up?"

"They all are," she said matter of factly.

"Oh," Harry said, surprised. "Well, let's round them up then." He went to each room and knocked on the door before poking his head in, and asked all of the kids to join him in the library. As Emma had said, every single one was awake. Draco wondered how she knew that, but decided to worry about it later.

"Okay gang," Harry said, sitting on an armchair. The kids, with the exclusion of Teddy, who was asleep upstairs, all sat on couches or chairs or the floor around him. Draco stood next to Harry. "I know this is weird for a lot of you, so I thought I'd call a family meeting since we're all up anyway."

"What's a family meeting?" Emma asked, since she was now more comfortable with Harry and Draco after chatting with them.

"It's where the whole family, everyone in the house, gets together and talks about stuff that effects all of them," Harry explained gently. "You can always talk to us any time, but if anyone has any questions they can ask now too. And don't be shy, because some of you may be wondering the same thing."

"What do we call you?" asked a small boy with nut brown hair and freckles.

"Whatever you like," Harry said automatically, and Draco nudged him.

"Why don't you give some examples?" he suggested.

"Well, er, my name is Harry and you can call me that. But this is supposed to be a home, where we all act like a family. So if you want to call me... dad... well that would be alright. Or anything else," he added self consciously.

"And I'm Draco," Draco advised. "But the same goes for me."

"When we go to Hogwarts are we allowed to come back?" a little dark haired girl.

"Of course," Harry said enthusiastically. "This is your home now, and you can come back every summer and every break. And when you're in Hogwarts you can visit Draco too, because he works there."

"You all come from different places and were raised differently til now," Draco said, "And we know it can be scary to move somewhere new. So why don't we go over some ground rules?"

"No fighting," Harry said first. "You don't have to get along every day, but there won't be any hitting, or biting, or hurting each other. There is no hitting in this house." He was very firm on this point. He didn't know every experience every child had been a part of, and he didn't want anyone triggered by violence. Of course, he also plain didn't want to deal with fighting children every day.

"A closed door is a closed door for a reason," Draco added, "Even ours. If you want to come in you have to knock, and we'll do the same. Sometimes we might have to come in anyway, but we'll try to make sure your space is always yours. Just the same, you might have an emergency, and you can always come get us if you do."

"You have roommates and they may change if more people come here and some people graduate and get too old to stay, but you share a room with them and it's theirs too. You have to share with them, whoever they are, but your things are your own." Harry was very insistent that no one should sleep alone unless they were a teen, because it would be good for sharing dorms in Hogwarts. That, and his cupboard haunted him.

"You have to listen to what we say, because there are reasons for them," Harry explained, "But we aren't mean. You can ask us to explain and we will, or ask us to change our minds and we might."

"If you're naughty or do something you oughtn't, we might punish you," Draco warned, and saw some kids looked scared. Their punishments at home were likely severe if they were taken from their parents for abuse. "But we don't hit either," he reassured. "So it'll probably be chores or a grounding."

"And there is a house elf that works here," Harry said, "But you may not see him. His name is Kreacher, and he comes to clean up. But this doesn't mean that you're allowed to make a mess, because you'll be expected to clean up after yourself."

"And no one can go to the potions room unsupervised," Draco said. "Or the greenhouse. It's off limits without an adult because there are things that might hurt you there, or you might accidentally hurt a plant. We can show you how to take care of them and brew things, but you have to be with us."

"Does anyone have any questions?" Harry asked, and seventeen hands shot up.

"What if - "

"Can I - "

"Do you - "

It took them until the wee hours of the morning, but they answered all the questions and hopefully put some minds at ease. Harry carried Emma to bed, and Draco took two little boys by the hand and helped them find their room. By the time everyone was in bed they were exhausted, and Teddy was just waking up.

"I've got him," Draco said, "You sleep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's my cousin isn't he? He'll be fine."

They'd both had a long talk with Andromeda about Teddy a few weeks ago while the house was being built. She'd lost her daughter and son in law, but also her husband to the war. She was all alone and a bit older now, had no one to help her. She was reluctant to let Teddy go but she simply hadn't planned on having a baby at this stage in her life, and Harry and Draco were willing to take him. Harry was quite insistent about it, and was lucky Andromeda was willing. To ease her guilt she was also going to be coming by in the mornings with Molly. But Harry had officially adopted Teddy, and they were now parents legally to the little guy. It had been an adjustment, but they were both learning to raise a baby with Molly and Andromeda's help.

"There now, you're fine," Draco said soothingly as he fed him. "Just a little hungry." He fell asleep holding Teddy in the rocking chair, and Harry found them wrapped up in each other in the morning proper.

Molly came by for her first visit and cooked breakfast for everyone. Bacon and pancakes for all, and she wouldn't hear about anyone helping her, though she did show Harry her cooking spells when he asked. All the kids gathered in the dining room, which had booster seats and high chairs and all manners of gadgets to help the kids, and Molly floated the food into the room to set on the table and started dividing it up.

Since tutors wouldn't start coming until September 1 when the older children went to Hogwarts, Harry had just over a week to spend with everyone without any responsibilities. He roamed the gardens with the girls and discovered a mermaid that lived in their large pond, which simply delighted them. Draco took the boys to the forest and cautioned them against going in alone, but was able to show them some magical creatures. In the afternoon they switched, and the boys waved shyly at the mermaid while the girls kept their eyes out for unicorns. They ate every meal together as a family, and they learned about each other. They tried to make a real family feeling for their group, and very much made efforts to have the kids be around each other as much as possible. There were a few teens in the bunch that held back, but even they could be seen helping the younger children settle in.

When the school year came everything flowed very smoothly as routine set over Sanctuary House. The older children went to Hogwarts, where they visited Draco every day. He brought them sweets from home, and drawings the younger kids made them.

Back at the house the mornings were dedicated to schooling and tutors, and Molly and Andromeda came to help with the younger ones. Between the two Harry had a real fear that Teddy would never learn how to walk, but even he was developing and functioning normally according to the mothering opinions. The women's influence was felt among the children, who absolutely clung to Molly. Arthur admitted that her helping out had really pulled her out of a slump that she'd been in since Fred's death.

The funerals had been awful, of course. Draco and Harry had attended every one of them after the battle, and it had been horridly sad, but Fred's was by far the worst. George was simply a shell of himself, and he kept looking to the side like he expected to trade a glance with his brother. But his twin was the one in the box this time, and George seemed like half a person. All of the Weasley's were in tears, but none more than Molly, who had her worst fear realized. All she had wanted was to get out of this war alive with all of her children, but it wasn't meant to be. She had clung to George in the gathering after the burial, and he seemed to slip away more with each passing moment. But here at Sanctuary she had a lot of small hands clinging to her skirt, begging for her motherly attention, and she could deny no one. She sat them in the library every morning and read stories, sang songs, and played games while the older kids learned how to add, subtract, and divide. Every day one of the older kids read the younger ones a story for practice, and the group leaned on each other hard.

The afternoon was free for the kids, and they ran around the house freely. They made a bit of a ruckus, but Harry was getting used to it. And when Draco came home for dinner the kids all surrounded him.

"Go figure," Harry said with a crooked smile. "I spend the day playing with them and potty training and teaching them, and when you come home I'm chopped liver."

"They know what's up, Potter," Draco said, lifting Emma into his arms where she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He did indeed seem to have a way with the younger children especially.

"It's because you're a Healer. A gentle soul."

"Or because they see you all day, so I'm new and exciting," Draco pointed out. He carried Emma over to the giant monthly calendar in the kitchen labeled SEPTEMBER in bright blue block letters. It held everything they did that month, including the daily log of all kids. "Let's see here... you read three books today Emma? Wow!" She nodded in agreement, solemnly.

"Two were very hard," she informed him. "And one was about Healers."

"Huh, how about that." She was his shadow when he was home, and she was forever asking questions about his job. He scanned the calendar again, pausing at a date near the end of the month. "It's Hermione's birthday tomorrow," he informed Harry. They had a gift on the counter ready to send. "Maybe you ought to owl this over tonight so it's there on time."

"Who's Herm-eye-knee?" Emma asked.

"Harry's best friend."

"I thought you were his best friend."

"I'm his soul mate. We have other friends though."

"Oh. Am I your friend?"

Draco plopped her onto one of the stools surrounding the large kitchen table. "Let's see, then. You're about tall enough. And you kiss me on the cheek every day. I'd say we're friends." He gave her a tickle, and she giggled.

"Stop!" She said, gasping for breath. Her laughter rang through the kitchen. "Daddy!"

He heard Harry stop breathing from across the room. This was the first time any of the children had called them anything besides Harry and Draco, and Draco's heart stopped. He couldn't remember the last time it had felt so full, and he suddenly understood what parents talked about when they said that children were everything.

"Alright, I'll stop tickling this time," he said, a catch in his throat. "But next time you might not be so lucky. Hey, go wash up for dinner." She hopped off the stool and ran out of the room, oblivious to Draco's emotions. But he leaned his hands on the table and his shoulders shook.

"Hey," Harry said, placing a warm hand on his back, "Are you alright?"

"I just - I knew what we were doing was basically adopting every kid that walked through the door," he explained, swiping at the tears falling down his face, "And I always thought sure, kids. I mean there's Teddy and I love him to pieces. But that's the first time I've ever - it just hit me here." He made a fist over his chest, and Harry pulled him in close. "I'm just glad we did this I guess. I thought it would be more of your thing since I'd be at the hospital wing a lot, but I'm one hundred percent here too and I didn't realize I would be, or would want to be."

They had a quiet moment of calming Draco and starting dinner together, and soon they had a few shepherds pies on the table for everyone.

Sometimes Draco had to go when he was needed at Hogwarts after hours, but there was an alarm that was set on the whole wing. If someone entered the wing while he was away his wand would vibrate and glow and alarm, and he knew it would be time to go. He would Floo over and be there before whoever it was even got to the door, usually, and there was a marked decline in the number of hospital wing visits since Harry had left, Draco noted.

Christmas was usually a slow time in the hospital wing, and Poppy told him to take off and enjoy the holiday with the family. He was officially off duty until term started again, and he revelled in it since he knew it probably wouldn't happen again. As a personal point of pride every single member of Sanctuary House came home for Christmas, and Harry was thrilled about it. They built snowmen, they had snowball fights, they built whole snow fortresses. They went skating on the pond, and had hot cocoa whenever they felt like it. Draco and Harry helped their oldest kid, Garrett, draft a letter to the makers of Nimbus after he'd complained about the Slytherin's unfair broom advantage. Harry could have easily bought the whole school new brooms, but he thought it was better if Garrett tried to sort the issue out without gold first. They were asking for a donation to be made in the tune of thirty broomsticks to the Hogwarts Quidditch department, so that all students could play on a fair advantage. They would in turn advertise the brooms during games. He also sent letter to Quality Quidditch Supplies looking for a similar deal in protective gear.

Everyone gathered by the library fireplace for a mix of muggle and wizarding Christmas stories on Christmas Eve, and everyone woke up to a stocking at the end of their bed. Thinking they were lucky for their treats and small toys, Harry got to witness the joy of every single child who walked in to find the mountain of presents under the large Christmas tree in the library. When everyone was gathered Harry and Draco handed them out, and there was so much noise and excitement in the room that Draco got a headache but didn't even care. Emma had loved the mini potions set he'd found her, and Stacey and June had pots of makeup to practice on one another. All the kids got new clothes and robes, and the school aged children had all gotten owls to write their friends over the summers. The younger ones had all sorts of toys and games and books, and the teens were delighted with their candy and watches. And when they all collectively presented Draco and Harry with a photo of the group from the other day making snowmen, Draco caught Harry misting up.

Kreacher cooked a big turkey dinner for everyone on Christmas Day, and Molly stopped in to say happy Christmas. She presented them with a large package that Harry and Draco enlisted all the kids to help unwrap, and they were stunned by what they saw. It was a clock, much like Molly's, with locations written on it. Home, school, mortal peril, work, bed, travelling, hospital, and several others. On it were two spoons, one for Harry and one for Draco. One by one each of the kids presented the two with spoons showing their faces, their names engraved neatly on the handles. Every single spoon when attached swung to Home, and Harry openly wept now. It was everything he'd wanted his home to be.

For New Years Eve Harry enlisted every adult he trusted to corral his kids. Order of Merlin's were being given out that day, as they were every year, and would be followed by a rather large party. Molly and Andromeda would herd the children during the ceremony, and Hagrid had agreed to help too, and they would return the children home and let the others enjoy their party.

Everyone who was in the castle during the final battle was getting Orders for their wartime efforts it seemed. The staff at Hogwarts, some stand out students. Neville, Luna, and the rest of the DA. Even Lavender got one, which Hermione said was a huge deal for werewolf rights. Hermione and Ron each got two First Class's, one for the battle and one for their 'continued wartime efforts'. Draco got both of those, and an extra one for his life saving efforts and healing abilities, the same one Poppy received. Harry beat them all though with a total of five, the most anyone had ever received. One for the general battle, one for wartime efforts, one for his sacrifice to wizard kind, and one for the defeat of Voldemort. But the last one meant the most to him, and he was surprised by it. All of his children walked from the audience to the stage, pulling Draco with them. They presented each of them with another one, for their work with Sanctuary House.

"They told me to say your role as guardian," Emma said in her presentation. "But I don't have any guardian. I only have two daddies."

There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Harry took the microphone for an acceptance speech. Everyone had made them, short thank you's and shoutouts. Everyone had been dying to hear what Harry had to say, and they'd saved him for last.

"Thank you everyone," he said when they made a standing ovation for him. "This past year has truly been a team effort. I would like to take a moment to honour our fallen." He bowed his head, and everyone copied him. When a minute had passed, he spoke again. "A lot of the people I'd like to thank aren't here anymore. My parents. Remus Lupin and Tonks. Mad-Eye Moody. Severus Snape. Albums Dumbledore. But the people that are here to thank are numerous. Arthur and Molly Weasley, the entire Order of the Phoenix, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, the DA. Rubeus Hagrid, Minerva McGonnagall, Horace Slughorn. I could go on.

But the truth is that despite all of the help I had, I wouldn't have made it two steps without Draco Malfoy. He supported me in my fight against Voldemort since I was eleven, and saw me through the most difficult parts of the war. The loss of loved ones, the loss of hope. He healed me in all ways during and after the war. And it is my great pleasure to announce that he has agreed to marry me."

There was a reaction through the room at this. A lot of wizards hadn't known Harry was on a relationship, let alone a same sex one. But still there were cheers, including from the row of children.

"This war has shown oppression to muggle-borns and magical creatures, which we have decided to end. But I do not think we should go back to the way things were. I think we should become better, and stronger. I think we should honour goblins and their magic, I think we should allow house elves freedom options. I think werewolves should be aided, not feared, and treated as valued members of society. And I think we should legalize gay marriage, giving it the same legal, magical, and social rights as heterosexual marriage. Because I have five Orders of Merlin, First Class, but all I really want is to marry my boyfriend."

There was a raucous cheer at this now, and Harry started to turn from the microphone. "Oh!" He said, turning back to address the crowd. "And thank you to my children, for the award and for choosing me every day. I love you."

He got off stage and sat next to Draco with his head held high, and his hand taking Draco's. "You did good," Draco said.

"I'm never making a bloody speech again."

The ceremony ended and they piled their awards and gave them to Hagrid, who promised to keep them safe. The children went back home and the New Year's Eve bash began. At such a gathering of politicians, everyone wanted a word with Harry, which turned into a word with Draco and Harry since they wouldn't leave each other's side. Draco could only smile when Harry turned every single conversation into supporting a bill so that he could marry, and one was drafted on official ministry paper on the spot, and gathered the signature of every politician present, including the minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It would be ratified on January 2, he promised, once they officially passed the bill.

With that done Harry was free to have a good time, and he ate and drank with his friends. He even danced, spinning Poppy, Molly, Andromeda, Ginny, Luna, and Hermione around the dance floor. Shortly before midnight he found Draco for his dance.

"Finally got around to me, did you?" Draco asked with a grin.

"Saved the best for last," he replied. And they rung in the new year in each other's arms, kissing at midnight to great applause.


	12. Chapter 12

The same-sex marriage bill was ratified as promised, and the wedding plans truly began in earnest. Harry and Draco turned everything over to Molly, who balked.

"Now boys," she started, "You know I love you, but I'm only one woman. You're talking about a massive wedding here, one that will need a high budget and a lot of time and help planning."

"We know," Harry said sweetly. They'd decided he'd be the one to ask to try to get a yes out of Molly. "But we just thought that we didn't want to hire strangers, a wedding should be put on by family. And, well, you're the only family we've got."

That was the clincher for Molly Weasley, who sighed and rolled up her sleeves, accepting the challenge. She drafted Ginny, Fleur, Hermione, and Gabrielle to the task, and assigned so much work that each of them found their own helpers. The wedding was to be massive, with an official invitation list but room for whoever showed up. Draco reasoned that there was going to be no way they could keep the wedding of Harry Potter under wraps, so they might as well marry quietly and then allow everyone into the reception and have a massive party. She ran the final decisions by one or the other of them, though she tended to go to Draco when she wanted something a bit fancier. He'd been raised attending garden parties and balls, so he was more likely to approve something that seemed extravagant. She did promise that the overall tone of the wedding would be masculine and elegant, and they generally trusted her judgement. Especially since Ginny reported to them any out of hand plans that she heard, so they were able to cut off at the pass ideas such as exiting the wedding on a flying tandem bicycle.

Ron stood for Harry, and Hermione stood for Draco. They exchanged rings under a clear blue sky that did not dare to have a cloud in it that day. They were in a clearing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, under Professor McGonagall's permission. She had agreed to host the festivities at Hogwarts, though she took a grounds fee that she confided to Draco was being put to the Hogwarts Supply fund, the gold that Hogwarts used to buy school supplies to Muggle-borns and others from disadvantaged households. Draco wagered that McGonagall had added a sizeable donation to the fund given how large he knew the reception would be, but he hadn't seen the bill. Harry had given Molly a blank slate as far as cost, considering his vast fortune and the large crowds, and he didn't even care what everything cost. Which was just bad business, as far as Draco was concerned, but he fought the urge to go through everything line by line and counter it against the expenses withdrawn to make sure that the vendors weren't swindling them.

There was an arch of twisted vines and ivy that Molly had arranged for them to be married under, and rows of deep brown garden chairs with white seat cushions for the spectators. All the kids from Sanctuary House were in attendance, as well as the Weasley's. The remaining members of the DA, their professors at school, their dorm mates through Hogwarts, and a few people from the Order of the Phoenix filled out the remaining chairs. Kingsley Shacklebolt was honoured to be asked by Molly to perform the ceremony, and wore deep purple robes when he officiated. He stood under the archway beaming at guests, and telling guests they could have their photo with him at the reception. As the new Minister for Magic, he generated quite a bit of attention. But to Harry he was an old friend, and he couldn't think of anyone better to officiate.

Every little girl from Sanctuary House walked down the aisle throwing flower petals around, which delighted them. With so many flower girls the aisle was covered in petals by the time Hermione and Ron walked down the aisle, to violin music that Draco couldn't figure out the source of. It just seemed to be in the air, which he found rather charming. They matched smartly, Hermione in a midnight blue off the shoulder dress, Ron in a suit and matching blue tie and pocket square. Draco went down the aisle next, with Poppy Pomfrey on his arm. He'd had one awkward conversation with his own mother in preparation for the wedding, but she hadn't wanted to discuss his relationship status, let alone her role in the war and other hurts that she had stood by to witness. He'd argued that she'd helped save Harry for Draco's sake since she knew he was on the other side, but Narcissa hadn't been moved. She stood by Lucius, and would not be there for the wedding. So Draco had asked to walk Poppy down the aisle, who had treated him more like a mother through Hogwarts and beyond than anyone had. She had been a bit weepy when he'd asked her, and dressed in a bright red dress with a frilly white hat. Draco had placed a poppy in the hat band for her, and she couldn't have looked more proud. She had was widowed without children years ago, as Draco knew, and she told him privately at the rehearsal that he held that place in her heart and he had kissed her cheek softly and thanked her for being the person that was just his on this most important day. With so many people swirling about that Draco had been separate from due to his family circumstance — he'd been unable to join the Order as a Malfoy, hadn't been able to spend holidays at the Weasley's — and with no family of his own in attendance, her being there as his person meant everything.

Harry walked Mrs. Weasley down the aisle with him, his own surrogate mother. Molly was in tears, of course, and Draco's heart melted for her, but he only had eyes for Harry. He looked a little nervous, but he stood straight and walked confidently. Draco could see that Harry was wearing his Potter family ring on his right hand, given to him the Christmas they had met. It gave his heart a flutter to realize, and he grinned at Harry.

They didn't write their own vows. Harry was uncomfortable with everyone's attention, and Draco himself was a very private person, especially considering his and Harry's relationship. They repeated the standard Ministry vows to each other, and exchanged rings. It was a quick ceremony and Draco wouldn't have changed a thing about it. When they were finally declared married and were able to kiss, the whole crowd stood up and hooted and hollered and cheered them on, and when they pulled back they were grinning at each other, and Draco's heart felt fuller than it had ever been.

They took a few photos in the forest with the photographers, the wedding party and the family all getting in first to give the grooms some privacy for their own formals. They got pictures of all the flower girls, of Ron and Hermione with and without Harry and Draco, the Weasley's, Shacklebolt, and of course a picture of all the kids with Harry and Draco. Once they exhausted all possible combinations of people the photographer shooed them away and kept Harry and Draco for their own photos. For years they would look back on the pictures of their hands hold each other's, matching glinting gold rings on each. Details of their boutteniers, their cuff links, their shined up shoes tangled up together as Draco and Harry themselves kissed each other in the grass, glad to be relatively alone but for the photographer. She caught the way Draco looked at Harry, the only man in the world as far as he was concerned, and the way Harry still blushed when Draco nibbled at his earlobe. They posed in each other's arms, and it was clear that they were in love in a way that would last a lifetime.

When she finally relinquished them they realized that they had about two hours before the reception started and their friends were all watching the kids, so they headed back home for a private moment together before the circus started.

"Wedding present time," Harry declared, pulling a wrapped gift and a letter out of his bedside drawer. Draco eagerly did the same. They had agreed that as neither one particularly wanted to get soppy at the ceremony that they would write letters to each other privately. Their own vows. Their own promises. They swapped packages and both men tore into the letters.

 _Draco,_

 _I'm supposed to have written this ages ago, but it's the night before our wedding and here we are. You're sleeping peacefully, of course, while I'm a nervous wreck. The one advantage to this situation is that I get the distinct pleasure of watching you sleep. You snore a little, you know. Not loudly, it's rather cute actually. And when you're already asleep and I come to bed you don't wake up but you do reach for me, pull me close. It's comforting and warm. It's a love I never expected to feel, that reach for you in the middle of the night love, and I count my blessings every day that I have you._

 _I think back to the day I met you when I thought you were so arrogant and rude. I think about how we became friends, how we bonded over the awful home lives we both had, and got into trouble together. Well, okay, I got you into trouble. And our first kiss at the Yule Ball, where I was so thrilled and confused, and the time in the courtyard before we got together, and our second first kiss in the astronomy tower — the night by the fire at Grimmauld Place. I was just eleven when I met you, and I had no idea that this little blond boy who was so rude to me would quickly become my entire world. My journey to accept that I was in love with a man was much less difficult than accepting that I could have a relationship with someone, someone who loved me, someone who I could safely love back, and you patiently waited for me. You would have had every right to give up on me, but that's not what you did and that's not who you are. You showed me that you would be here for me through the easy bits and through the hard bits, and the bits where I was a bit of an idiot, and you never left._

 _You've seen me through trials and ordeals that are uniquely horrible, and never once did you falter or waver. So it is my solemn promise to you that I will also never falter or waver. For our entire lives and beyond I dedicate myself to you, will support you, will love you. I will put you and our family above all things. I will be the man that I couldn't be at fourteen at the Yule Ball — I will be worthy of your love and devotion. After all, in the end it's me and you against the world, and I wouldn't have it any other way._

 _Your affectionate husband (!!!!),_

 _Harry Potter._

 _P.S. I love you_

 _Harry,_

 _We've just decided to write these letters, and while I know you'll probably wait for the last minute I am anxious to put into words everything you need to know going into this marriage._

 _Firstly, I love you. That much I know is clear to you, but let me be very candid. I down to my bones, fill my soul, order my entire life around you love you. And while I tell you this every day in some way or another, I know that we've had hard starts in life with our families, and I want there to be no doubt. I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, and I want you to know that with certainty._

 _Second, I will be here for you in every way I know how. Rest your troubles on my shoulders, bring your joy to my heart, take my body, mind, and soul. Because I breath for you. I have been there through the greatest and most terrible moments of your life, and I won't stop now. As we bind ourselves together please know that my devotion to you is true, and I will spend every day supporting you and our family. Leave your troubled past behind my love, and know that I will be your family come what may._

 _And last, I want to tell you how you've brought joy into my life. In my darkest days I was sure I wouldn't survive, surrounded by snakes and hiding my bruises. I thought that I could take or leave my entire existence, and some days would have rather preferred that Lucius finished the job. But always I thought of you, my friend, and then my lover. The one who accepted me even when you knew my family were Death Eaters. The one who accepted me so quickly when I came out, as though I had merely mentioned I loved liquorice. The one who supported me through my Healer training, and made sure you were there when I needed you. I am not a perfect man, but I have a perfect love, and that is good enough for me._

 _I vow to spend each day showing my love for you, and each night in your arms. You are the only one for me, and my soul sings when I am with you. I vow to be a family man and to take care of the children of Sanctuary with you, to raise Teddy with you. I vow to always have your back, and to never let you walk a moment in darkness. It's me and you against the world. It always has been, and it always will be._

 _With all the love in my heart, I give myself to you._

 _Love,_

 _Draco Malfoy_

Draco wiped at his eyes with his handkerchief, a bit of a wreck. He looked up at Harry and saw that he was much the same way.

"What a pair of blubbering fools," Draco said, handing Harry a handkerchief too.

"It's a wedding," Harry sniffed, "I'm allowed. Go on, open your present then."

Draco had almost forgotten, and tore at the paper to reveal a wide book, the glossy cover awfully familiar to him. "But that's — that's my shot," he said dumbly. One of his photos of Hogwarts decorated the cover. He opened the book and flipped through it, finding page after page of his own photographs, once he'd taken over the years but never did anything with. There was a section for the castle, for landscapes, for the Muggle world. There were portraits and art shots and experiments in there. There was a whole section dedicated to the war, to the photos Draco had taken in hiding, of the castle in ruins, of the people in the Great Hall after the fact still standing despite what they'd been through. There was a picture of a curved buttock in there that Draco remembered fondly, Harry tangled in the sheets in one of their dorm beds after everyone had gone to sleep. Bless those bed curtains, Draco thought, which had let them get away with so much intimacy in their dorm. Harry had even put the art shots of him in the book that he'd been so shy about that Draco had loved. The top of his head, eyebrows up, which filled the bottom of the photo and showed his scar and he eternally messy hair, the rest of the photo negative space. Him bare chested and bare footed, writing a letter to Andromeda to send her some pictures of Teddy. The very last photograph in the book was Harry's favourite, a photo that showed Harry and Draco dancing together just as his parents once had in an album on his bookshelf. Draco knew he'd looked at that photo time and again, had captured them in a mirror image on purpose.

"You never have time to do anything with them," Harry said, a bit self conscious. "I thought I'd put them together for you."

"You must have spent ages at this," Draco said. He could just imagine Harry stealing moments to pore over his photos, to lovingly arrange them.

Harry shrugged, grinned. "Do you like it then?"

"I love it," Draco confirmed. "I love you. Open yours," he instructed.

Harry carefully peeled back the wrapping paper and opened his gift from Draco, revealing an ash wood box. Inside was a key. "What's this then?" He asked, puzzled. Draco took him to the window and muttered the _finite incantatum_ spell to break the invisibility over the bike.

"Sirius' bike," Harry breathed.

"Your bike," Draco corrected. "Ted Tonks had sent all the pieces to Arthur Weasley, who put it together."

"So that's where you two disappear every time we have dinner there," Harry said, bemused.

"We didn't think you'd notice," Draco said, laughing. It was a task and a half to wrangle all their kids over the summer to get to Molly and Arthurs, but they went once a week once school was out so the kids could play on their farm and beg sweets from Molly in her own kitchen. "How much time do we have before we're expected at the reception?"

Harry glanced at his watch, nearly forgetting the next phase of their day entirely. "Er, about an hour."

"Okay, good."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to make love to my husband now," Draco said matter of factly, hauling Harry to the bed.

They undressed in a hurry, and Draco quickly took Harry into his mouth, eager to please him. He knew all of Harry's buttons, knew how to drag his pleasure out to last all night, knew how to make him climax almost instantly. He had made quite the study of Harry's body and responses and proved it then, making Harry see stars in just minutes.

"Bloody hell," Harry gasped, "How do you do that?"

"My secret," Draco said, flipping Harry over and biting one cheek. Far from the blushing virgins they'd been at Grimmauld Place, they'd given each other some form of pleasure every day since then. Experienced in each other and comfortable in their own bed, Draco was able to prepare Harry quite easily before he turned over to face Draco once more and found his husbands member sliding into him gently. Face to face Draco was able to see every reaction from Harry which made the experience all the more enjoyable as he pushed himself inside of him. It wasn't long before Draco himself was undone, and the pair lay in a sweaty tangle on the bed.

They were nearing sleep when Harry nudged him. "We have twenty minutes to get cleaned up and dressed and back over to the party," he informed Draco, who moaned and rolled over, getting up.

"I don't want to," he informed Harry. "I want to stay here with you."

Harry's lips twitched. "I know. But that's what honeymoons are for. Come on."

So they got back into their clothes, made themselves as presentable as possible, and rode Harry's bike over to the reception, which neither Molly nor Minerva approved of, but neither could do anything about it. The crowd of people, hundreds more than Harry had expected would turn up, all roared in greeting as they flew over them and landed on the Quidditch pitch that Molly had transformed into a reception area.

"Nice entrance," Ron had said, nudging Harry.

"I had to show off my gift didn't I? Besides, at least I didn't hit a tree."

Giant white tents filled the Quidditch pitch, bringing shade to those who wanted to get out of the sun. A dance floor had been erected in the middle of the pitch, and Molly had hired two bands for the occasion. Celestine Warbeck, a personal favourite of hers, had agreed to come out of retirement to perform for Harry Potter's wedding, and she had hired the Weird Sisters at appease the grooms taste in music. Twinkling fairy lights decorated the goal posts for when it got darker, and Harry knew that Molly had arranged for hundreds of small tea light candles to float in the air just like how they did in the Great Hall. Everything was dark blue and white and dazzling, and Draco had to hand it to Mrs. Weasley — she had done a fantastic job. Dozens of tables and chairs had been set up along the pitch for weary dancers to rest their feet and eat their dinner, and waiters were filling glasses with champagne, firewhisky, wine, water — whatever you wanted in your glass they filled with a flick of their wands. Cocktail hour had begin in their absence, and everyone was in a great mood when they caught sight of Harry and Draco.

Dinner was served buffet style, as no chef could have possibly anticipated then prepared for this number of people and Molly knew it. She'd had a suspicion all along that crowds of witches and wizards would flock to the event and she was right. The caterers took one look at the crowd once everyone had mostly arrived and had started doubling things and apparating to their kitchens for help. But they pulled it off, and everyone had a full plate of any number of dishes before long. Ron and Hermione gave a speech as was customary. Ron was a bit pale speaking in front of that many people, and Hermione had been shy to start, but the crowd encouraged them and soon were laughing at Ron's jokes and dabbing away at tears with Hermione's sentimentality. Then Harry thanked everyone for coming, mentioned everyone who had put the wedding together, and thanked his family, his friends, and everyone else who came to celebrate with them. Draco made a touching note to everyone who had supported their marriage, the first legal gay union in Magical Britain, and the crowd cheered again.

Draco and Harry opened up the dance floor, the Weird Sisters playing a modified version of _Magic Works_ , switching only the line "she wants you" for "he wants you". Then the dance floor flooded with people, and Harry and Draco were occupied all night. At one point a little hand pulled on his pant leg and he looked down to see Emma in her flower girl outfit looking up at him adoringly.

"Hullo poppit," he said cheerfully, picking her up. "How may I help you?"

She whispered in his ear. "Can we dance too?" And Draco melted.

"Of course, my love," he said, and held her hands as she danced on his toes, gathering adoring sighs from onlookers. Taking the opportunity of a moment alone, a rare thing for anyone at Sanctuary, Draco decided to ask Emma about a suspicion he had. "Emma dear, do you remember your first night home with us, when you knew everyone was awake?"

She nodded, shyly.

"How did you know everyone was awake? Did you go in all the rooms?"

She shook her head. "I just knew. I felt them. They were all awake and they were all nervous, and some of them were scared so it made me scared."

"Do you just know things a lot, about how other people are feeling?" Emma nodded her head, and Draco figured he was correct. He had suspected that she was an empath. "Can you think of any other examples?" He asked her, just to be sure.

"Like when Garrett got that letter from the broomstick people, I could feel how happy he was. And when Stacey fell from that tree, my arm hurt too. And how I asked you to dance and your chest felt funny — why does it do that?"

Draco picked her up again, a little stunned. "It's because I love you so much, I suppose," he said, giving her a little squeeze.

He gave her another hug and set her down, sending her off to Molly Weasley. She, Arthur, and Andromeda were staying over at the house tonight and for the next week while Draco and Harry took off on a real vacation, their honeymoon to Spain where they expected lots of sun and no interruptions, which would make it just about perfect. Because Harry had caught his eye from the sidelines of the dance floor, and Draco needed no little empath to tell him how Harry was feeling then. They made a grand goodbye to everyone, bid the party to keep going in their absence, and took off on the motorbike for home to get their bags.


	13. Chapter 13

No one ever said that raising upwards to fourty children under one roof would be easy. When half of them did accidental magic and half of them were old enough to sass and to get into real trouble, it seemed downright impossible some days. But Merlin, Harry and Draco tried. The first group of kids were the most difficult, even if they didn't hit Sanctuary's capacity, because they had their biggest learning curve with that group. Harry had needed to learn what to do and what not to do to keep as many people as happy as he could at one time. For instance, he very quickly learned that as a home for abandoned and abused children, everyone had odd triggers. He tried to learn as much about the children as he could before they even found his way to him permanently, but he had a few ground rules that made life easier. No drinking, no yelling, and you let them come to you.

Nothing stronger than butterbeer was kept in the house at any time. It made some of the kids uneasy as drinking and violence had gone hand in hand in some of their previous homes, and Harry didn't want to do anything that made the kids uneasy. This was the easiest rule to follow, though he wished he could have a glass of something stronger after particularly trying days. Overall he didn't miss it much, had never been a fan of losing control over himself really, and it kept the peace in the house.

No yelling seemed like an easy one until you tripped over muddy boots for the sixth time that weekend when you'd _told_ them to boot their boots away. Harry found that he too was learning new methods of communication, and had begun bribing the children to behave. The Quidditch balls would be locked away if the mud room was messy. They could earn pocket money by doing chores. He let them figure out amongst their roommates how messy or clean to keep their rooms, but he refused to allow a mess in any common areas. He'd learned to switch the tone from things that made him angry ( _"Why would you do that?"_ ) to allow more confidence and openness ( _"Let's talk about why you did that."_ ). He brought in all manner of professional help between tutors, psychologists for them to talk their issues out with, and even Molly and Andromeda were drafted to have sensitive discussions with the witches once they'd reached a certain age where they might need a mothers advice. Once a month Harry tried to plan one serious event and one fun event, if only to get them all out of the house. He held a careers day in the summer where he asked what they all wanted to be after Hogwarts, and tried to bring in people who did those jobs to talk to everyone about them. He took them in groups to Diagon Alley in August and September — school aged children in August to get their supplies, younger children in September to cheer them up once everyone else had gone to school.

Draco had broke the no yelling rule once, and then never again. He hadn't even been mad, but the reaction he'd received had scared him. They'd been in the Potions lab, and he was showing the younger students how he made their Pepper-Up Potions for when they didn't feel so great when a quiet little boy named Henry had reached up onto the table and almost knocked over a container of Venemous Tentacula Leaves. He'd thought he'd put them up high enough, and Henry hadn't realized how dangerous it would be if he opened that jar. He'd yelled at him to stop, wanting him to freeze, but instead the boy had ran from the room in tears. Draco had frozen the potion, sent all the kids up to go play, and then went to look for Henry. He found him hidden a way in his closet, shaking and crying.

"Hey there," Draco said gently, feeling like a pile of slime for upsetting him like this. "I'm sorry, Henry." He reached out to give Henry a reassuring pat on the arm, but the little boy had flinched, and Draco realized that he'd been expecting to get hit. His heart broke. "I didn't mean to yell," he explained. "But you were about to open something that would have hurt you, so I panicked. I promise I'll be more careful with my words if you promise to be more careful in the potions room, okay?" The boy nodded, so Draco sat on the floor with him and held his arms out. Henry crawled onto his lap and let himself be held and comforted, but Draco never forgot the day he'd scared one of their kids so badly.

Harry had learned to let them come to you the hard way. The younger children were easier to adjust, could believe they were in a better home now easier than the older ones. The older ones always came with a certain amount of skepticism in their hearts, and they always took the longest to come around. Some of them even resented being placed in Sanctuary House, feeling that they could have either dealt with their situation themselves, needed to stay to protect one parent or another, or wanted to be left on their own. Clarissa had been some combination of all three, thirteen years old and a fiery temper. She'd challenged Harry, Draco, Andromeda, and Molly at every turn, gave out sass like it was her job, and stayed away from everyone else as much as possible. Harry had, he thought, done pretty well at keeping his own temper in check with her, but Draco knew it had been a blow when she had opted to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. When she had opted to stay for Easter too, Draco wasn't sure what Harry would do. He paced all night when he got the short note from her advising of her plans, and he questioned himself at every turn. She was single handedly shaking his confidence to raise children.

When summer rolled around and Clariss was forced back into the house, Harry was determined to turn things around with her. He didn't respond when she was rude to him, he tried to encourage her to spend time with the others, he was, Draco feared, a little bit smothering as he tried to figure out what Clarissa wanted. When she'd finally snapped at him that he wasn't her father, he wasn't _anyone's_ father so could he just back off already, Harry had been truly hurt. He left her alone for the evening and she skipped breakfast the next day. When he went to take her some lunch he found her room was ransacked and empty. She'd taken all of her books and her clothes and she'd fled. She'd even taken her spoon off the clock so that they wouldn't have any idea of where to find her. Harry had panicked, alerting the Magical Law Enforcement Squad in case they had seen her, filed a missing persons report with the Muggle police, and organized a search of Hogsmeade, the closest village, asking everyone to keep an eye out for her. He searched through St. Mungo's, both hoping to find her and hoping to not find her there. Once he'd been assured she wasn't there he pulled her file and found the address where she'd last been living and paid a visit.

It was a dirty apartment building on the poor side of town in London, and Harry knew her father still lived there. Her mother had died years ago, and her father wasn't an upstanding citizen. He'd been in jail on a battery charge when the Ministry had asked to place her at Sanctuary, but a quick check had shown that he was now released. Harry rang several of the apartment buzzers in quick succession, and some asked who was there but some just buzzed the door open. Harry took a dimly lit elevator to the eleventh floor and knocked on a door that was supposed to be number nineteen, but just showed a dirty brass 1 and a darkened stain from where the 9 used to be. No one answered, so he knocked a little harder, and soon a ruddy faced blond man in a wife beater and jeans answered the door. He was soft around the middle and his hair was thinning. His eyes were rimmed red, and he reeked of booze.

"What do you want? Who are you?" He asked. He slurred a little.

"I'm here for Clarissa," he stated firmly.

"Well she's not here."

But Harry spied a door open a crack behind the man, saw Clarissa peering out while trying to stay hidden. He ignored it for now. "Consider this a welfare check then," he said, pushing his way into the apartment. He looked around the place and made a face at the stinking pile of dishes in the sink, the dirty laundry spilling out of what was clearly Clarissa's fathers room, the general dinginess and uncleanliness of the living areas.

"Clarissa was supposed to clean this," he said, sneering. He had clearly taken notice of Harry's expression. "Good for nothing kids. I'll teach her to behave yet though. Girl!" He hollered to his daughter, who came out immediately, head bowed. Clearly her father had forgotten in his state that he'd already told Harry she wasn't home.

Harry crossed over to her, then saw her bruise. She had a black eye on the right side of her face, and her left arm had bruises from finger marks. Harry recognized them, his Uncle Vernon giving him the same marks on more than one occasion. He felt a great anger rise in him, one he'd never felt before. He willed himself to remain calm, but he was vaguely aware of the lights flickering around him.

"A man's got a right to punish his kids as he see's fit," the man said simply, as though that settled everything.

"Not like this he doesn't," Harry shot back.

"What do you care anyway?" He asked nastily, not appreciating that Harry wasn't on his side here. "Who are you anyway, one of Clarissa's boyfriends? Aren't you a little old? You're lucky I don't call the copper on you, you are. Now if you don't mind." He grabbed Harry to eject him from the apartment, and Clarissa cried out. She reached for her father to pull him back, clearly fearful that he would do something to hurt Harry. He let go and gave Clarissa a backhanded slap to get her back, and she reeled.

This was the very last straw for Harry, who drew his wand. "If you touch her again," he snarled, taking a step forward, "I swear I'll —"

"Oh you're one of _those_ ," he said, clearly unfazed. "Aren't there laws against this shite? Coming into a mans home and using your ruddy magic?"

"No," Harry said menacingly, taking a step forward. "Especially not for me. Because I'm a big deal in our world, you see." The tip of his wand glowed red as Harry got angrier, as he moved closer. "The minister was at my wedding. I saved the bloody world. So no one's going to bat an eyelash if I burn this place to the ground with you in it, you pathetic, abusive, little cockroach of a —" Harry broke off then, because his wand was poking into this man's chest. It was clearly red hot, and Harry could smell the singe of his shirt and chest hair. The man was hollering. Surprised, Harry pulled his wand back. He hadn't exactly meant to do that.

"What do you want?" The man asked, clutching his chest.

"I want you to back away from Clarissa and let her pack her things, because she's coming with me. And I want you to know that if you ever lay a hand on her again I'll back, and I won't be so nice next time." He uttered a banishment spell to throw him back to his bedroom, and threw ropes from his wand to bind him. Contained, he could do nothing. He could do no more harm.

"Are you coming with me?" Harry asked Clarissa. His entire tone had shifted to be infinitely softer when he spoke to her. He knelt on the floor next to her, where she'd sat in tears after her father had hit her again and watched the entire exchange. "You don't have to. I know you don't really like it there. But we could make it temporary while we find you something else, because I won't leave you here. I'm your legal guardian and I can't let him near you again, understand?"

Clariss nodded. She stood up with Harry, disappearing into her room to gather her things. Harry noticed that it was spotless, as opposed to the rest of the apartment. "S-sanctuary isn't so bad," she said. "If we go back there will you show me how to do that spell? Where you threw him away from me?"

Harry's heart broke for her. "Yes, Clarissa," he said. He raised his wand again as produced his Patronus. He sent it to Sanctuary with a message for Draco that he had Clarissa and she was safe now. She stared at it with wonder. "Let's go get something to eat, just the two of us."

He took her to a greasy spoon not too far away and they had a full English breakfast at two o'clock in the afternoon. They talked about why she was so angry with him at Sanctuary (he mother henned her too much, wouldn't let her feel her own feelings), and why he'd had a hard time talking to her (it was difficult to cut through the sass and the mean comments). They had their first open discussion, and she told him that she hadn't wanted to get close to him or anyone else, she'd bounced around the foster system so much growing up that it was too hard. When you found a good home it hurt too much when you had to leave. Harry promised her that she would never have to leave Sanctuary, not til she graduated and found a job, and she gave him a wobbly smile and asked about his Patronus and how she could make one. When they waited for the bill Clarissa told him that next time he had a difficult kid he might try giving them some space and not trying to fix all their problems. And so the rule was born: let them come to you. They had a ceremonial re-spooning of the clock on her return. She came home for every holiday after that.

The years that followed were relatively peaceful, if somewhat chaotic. Harry and Draco kept every kid that walked through the door and treated them as their own, giving each a spoon on arrival with their name on it. When they graduated Hogwarts they were given their own spoon from the clock, and Harry and Draco attended more weddings than Ministry officiants over the years.

Draco started teaching at Hogwarts as well, offering basic and advanced healing courses. He was made head of Gryffindor due to his professorial status, and even interned a few aspiring healers himself. To Draco's great delight he trained Emma in healing and saw her to a career at St. Mungo's. Her empath abilities had excelled here, and she'd breezed through the program.

And one day Draco saw his husband reviewing the annual lists of Muggle born babies that he would be checking up on, and he saw him freeze.

"What is it?"

"The Dursley's." The reply was strained.

"But surely your aunt and uncle are too old -"

"The new Dursley's," he corrected. "Dudley and his wife. They've had a girl, Violet." He gripped his quill so tight it looked about to snap.

"Well, let's go," Draco said, grabbing his cloak.

It was the middle of the night when they banged on Dudley's door in Surrey, and he came to answer it in pyjamas and slippers.

"What in the bloody h - Oh. It's you."

"Yeah," Harry said testily, "It's me."

"What are you doing here?"

"Let us in and I'll explain."

He did, and his wife served tea in the sitting room once it was explained who Harry was. They had a long talk about what Harry did for a living now, and how he saved abused and abandoned children. Dudley looked properly ashamed.

"I'm here because of Violet," he explained. "She showed up on my list."

"And you think she's... like you?" Dudley asked.

"I know she is. She won't show it, not until she's about seven or so. But odd things might start happening, and she's on the list for Hogwarts."

Dudley paled. "But she's... mine. You can't have her."

"We don't want her, honestly," Draco said, his kind voice a reasonable tone cutting through the tense reunion. "Our home runs to take care of abused and abandoned magical children. It's the best place for them, but we'd rather we didn't exist at all. I guess the question is, will she be abandoned?"

"Absolutely not," said Dudley's wife. It was the first thing she'd really said all evening.

"But then, will she be abused? Especially now that you've learned she's a freak?" Harry asked nastily. The word still bothered him.

"My daughter is not a freak," Mrs. Dursley said, standing up now, looking as menacing as one could in a floral dressing gown. "And if you say she's got some... some magic powers, well then that just makes her better than everyone else then, doesn't it?" She looked desperately at Dudley.

"Of course," he said quickly. "Listen, I appreciate what you're trying to do but she'll be fine."

"Does your wife know what I went through?" Harry asked woodenly.

"At bit," Dudley said after hesitating.

"I'll be back when she's about eight," he warned, "To make sure you still feel this way when it starts up."

"Maybe -" Dudley broke off.

"Maybe what?" Draco prodded.

"It doesn't have to wait eight years. You're her family after all. And you could help her sort through all of this m-magic stuff. School and all that."

Harry took a deep breath. "You want to treat me like family now?"

"You and your... husband?" He had clearly noticed the matching wedding hands.

Harry nodded. "Okay then. Maybe we could see you and your wife, and Violet, more often."

"Would you like to come to dinner next Sunday?" Mrs. Dursley asked. "And please, call me Rebecca."

Draco grinned. "We currently have thirty children," he informed them pleasantly. "And we usually get a few more over the summer. It's best we set you up on the Floo and have you visit us next Sunday instead."

The years passed, and Harry's dark hair went to salt and pepper. Draco found getting up in the morning a bit more difficult than it used to be, and Harry gently prodded him about retirement.

"And what, get loads of rest and relaxation around here?" Draco said with a laugh. They always had no fewer than twenty children at any one time, and had hit max capacity a few times. Harry and Draco had legally adopted a few to make room at one point.

"We could retire," Harry said as he made tea that morning. "Go live a quiet life by the sea."

"You don't know what a quiet life is. I'm just fine thank you."

And when they were old men, Draco woke up one morning to find Harry was gone. He was in his spot in the bed, but he and the bed were cold. He was buried next to his parents in Godric's Hollow, and written on his tombstone and the obituaries was:

 _Harry James Potter_

 _July 31, 1980 - October 31, 2070_

 _The Boy Who Lived_

 _Saviour of the Wizarding World_

 _Father of a Generation_

 _Husband, Best Friend_

 _He walks with his parents now_

Draco retired in the hospital wing, and as a professor. He handed the reins over to Emma's son, the other Draco, who had gone into healing as well. He handed the children's home over to Teddy and Victoire's daughter, Janvier, and made a quiet exit from the wizarding world to wait for Harry.

At his death all of his surviving children came to the funeral and wept for him, and he spent the rest of eternity with Harry, as it was meant to be.

"Me and you?" Harry asked. It was dazzlingly white all around them. Harry looked seventeen again.

"Against the world," Draco confirmed, choking up. And he took Harry's outstretched hand, walking with him into Beyond.

 _Fin._


End file.
